just my fantasy sanctuary

“Um… Ma’am…” You start to say, awkward and stilted, but she raises a hand to stop you.

You shut up immediately, cowed.

Ardmore flicks through whatever it is she’s reading for another minute. In the silence of her sparse, impersonal office, it feels like an eternity.

Finally, she lifts her head and fixes you with a stern look.

“You know, I’m trying to figure out just what it is you do, exactly.” She says, and her voice is just as cold as her eyes. 

You swear it feels as though the temperature in the office drops.

“Oh.” You say. You’re trying to keep your voice light, but it just comes out strained. “I, um. Well, I suppose I manage the–”

“The purpose of the Recombinant Support Team,” Ardmore cuts across you cleanly, as though you had no voice at all. “Was to handle the administration for the unit so that they could focus on their missions.”

There’s a slight pause.

“Yes.” You say weakly, though you’re not sure if she was actually waiting on a response or not.

“As far as I can see, you do very little of that.” Ardmore is staring at you with an impassive expression. “You seem to spend most of your time doing their laundry.”

You feel your skin get hot and prickly with embarrassment. You don’t always do their laundry. Just… just a handful of times. But you don’t get a chance to defend yourself before she’s continuing.

“You have no experience, no real skills. I can’t rightly see how you got hired in the first place. You should have been reassigned when the useful members of your team were killed.” She huffs, the first edge of irritation beginning to creep into her tone. “But Quaritch has always liked a pretty young face.”

The prickling humiliation gets worse. Your shoulders are hunched, and you can’t meet her eyes.

What she’s getting at is something that you have been aware of on some level, despite your attempts at denial. You know that you were always the least efficient member of the team, but you had thought that you had worked with enough enthusiasm to make up the difference. And even when you were the only one left, no one had ever complained.

But you weren’t completely stupid. You know that the Colonel didn’t treat you like just any assistant.

“I–” You start to say, but she interrupts you yet again.

“I’m going to give you a choice.” She says, folding her hands in front of her.

There’s a pause, but this time you don’t speak. You just wait, your tummy clenching anxiously. This doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good. Are you being fired? Or demoted? Or finally reassigned? You suppose it was just a matter of time.

“The Colonel has become increasingly difficult to handle of late,” Ardmore says, setting the datapad down in a way that comes across as too casual. “He’s unruly, resistant to command. Seems to think he knows how to deal with the Na’vi insurgents better than anyone else.”

You blink. You had been aware on some level that there had been tensions between Quaritch and Ardmore, but you don’t know why or what happened. No one tells you anything around here, and you’re too focused on just getting by to really worry about the bigger picture of the RDA’s long-term goals on the planet.

“You’re aware that he left the city, unsanctioned, three days ago?’

That makes you tense. It’s an accusation, really. 

Of course you knew – there had been some kind of disagreement. You knew that Quaritch had asked for a ship and been denied, but not the particulars. You also knew that they had received some intel about Sully’s whereabouts, and had disappeared on their ikran mounts before anyone even knew they had gone.

You’re aware of all of this because you’ve already been chewed out by the higher ups in SecOps. You’re meant to be up to date with the Recoms every move, after all, so it’s easy to drop the blame in your lap.

“Y-yes,” You say, guilty and anxious all at once. “I didn’t sanction that–”

Ardmore continues over you, once again completely ignoring your attempt at speaking. It doesn’t seem like she cares much if you know what she’s talking about; you get the impression that she’s off-loading some of this onto you like this is a stopgap therapy session.

“The reason he was brought back was to complete a specific mission, and he has failed that mission several times.”

Retrieving or killing the betrayer and insurgent, Jake Sully. You know this one. It’s hard to miss the holovids shimmering all over Bridgehead, declaring him an enemy of humanity.

“So… is the Colonel being recalled, or something?” You ask.

Ardmore looks as though she’s stopping herself from rolling her eyes through sheer will power.

“The Recoms represent a significant investment by the company, so no, they’re not ‘being recalled, or something.’” Her voice is harsh in a way that makes you sit up straighter, your stomach curdling. “But they do need some… incentive to ensure they stay in line.”

You nod dumbly. “An incentive.”

“And that’s where you come in.”

Truthfully, you haven’t been following along with her reasoning very well in the first place, but now you’re flummoxed.

“Me, ma’am?” Despite your confusion, you work to keep your voice as even as possible. Ardmore is clearly already irritated about your very existence; you don’t want to give her a reason to hate you even more.

Your caution goes to waste, because Ardmore’s eyes flash in aggravation anyway. You suspect that there’s nothing you can do to please her, and it makes your spine go stiff. Your knees are watery, too – if you were standing, you might have gone weak.

“Yes, you.” Ardmore says sharply. “Next time the Recoms are sent out, you’re going with them.”

The order falls between you two like a lead balloon. You blink at her, turning the words over in your head. It takes you a moment to parse their meaning, and then another moment to discern that she’s one hundred percent serious. The General isn’t the type of woman to make jokes, but the statement is so bizarre that you honestly can’t quite get your head around it.

“Out.” You say at last. “Into… into the field?”

The General’s nostrils flare slightly as she takes an inhale, like she’s trying to regulate her patience. Then she forces a smile.

“That’s right.” She says. “Quaritch has been reckless recently. Let’s see if he takes the same type of risks when he’s toting you around behind him.”

You gape at her. You understand the basic premise. Quaritch has become a pain in her ass, so she’s decided to shackle a weight to his ankle to ensure he doesn’t go rogue like he’d done before. 

But why does that ankle weight have to be you?

Your mouth is dry when you swallow. “Uh… I don’t… I don’t know if that… I don’t think the Colonel would care too much if I got killed in the field, ma’am.”

Ardmore snorts a little, which isn’t a reaction you had been expecting.

“Right,” She murmurs, glancing at the datapad. “You were on sick leave the day we rolled out against the Metkayina. The rest of the Support team were with the Recoms, but not you.”

You blink, picking anxiously at a hangnail on your thumb. “Uh… Yes, ma’am. I had a cold.”

You swear her cold blue eyes actually flash at that.

“A cold.” She says the words slowly, as though tasting them. “A bad cold, was it?”

You hesitate, because no, it hadn’t been a bad cold. It was really little more than a case of the sniffles, but Quaritch had looked at you with such an expression of disgust when you had blown your nose near him that you had thought he was going to have you quarantined. Instead, he had ordered you to take a few sick days.

You hadn’t thought about it too much at the time; you had been all too happy to take the excuse to skip what you had thought was going to be the straightforward arrest of Jake Sully. But now, you can recognise that it’s a little strange that you were pulled off duty just for a runny nose, especially by a hard-ass like Quaritch.

“It could have been contagious.” You say weakly.

Ardmore ignores that.

“Pack a bag. Keep it light.” She says bluntly. “They want to head out tomorrow.”

There’s any number of reasons you could give to illustrate how this is a bad idea. You’ve never been outside Bridgehead, you have no combat training, you aren’t even very good at the job you have! The Recoms may not have complained, and Quaritch may not have demanded your reassignment, but that doesn’t mean that he actually wants you around. In the last few months, you’ve hardly seen him at all!

But you’re stressed and confused and not thinking clearly, because the only thing you blurt is; “Tomorrow? But they just got back!”

“Quaritch has a fire under his ass at the moment.” Ardmore grunts, already picking up her datapad again. “But that isn’t much good if he fails again.”

She redirects her attention to her datapad and it’s clear that you’re dismissed. But you’re not quite ready to go.

This is the stupidest plan you’ve ever heard. You’re not the smartest around, but even you can tell that this is irresponsible, ridiculous. Why send a civilian out with two Recoms, who have been engineered to fight back against the nine feet tall, vicious hostiles that want all humans dead?

“You said there was a choice.” You manage to say without your voice trembling. “What… what’s the other option?”

Ardmore’s eyes flick up to you.

“Other option.” She repeats without inflection. She sets the datapad aside again, then clasps her hands to look over you properly.

The once-over is brief, and you get the distinct impression that you’ve been found wanting.

“If you choose not to go, then there is no need for you on this planet.” Ardmore says after a pause. “Your presence here is superfluous. With only two Recombinants left, there’s not much need for a Support Team as they now report to me directly.”

“So–” You begin, blinking.

“So,” Ardmore cuts across you again. “You’ll be sent back to Earth.”

The words land like a suckerpunch to the chest. Your breath hitches, and you stare at Ardmore with wide eyes.

You’ll be sent back to Earth.

You can’t let that happen. There’s nothing for you back on Earth. Your city is a wasteland, buckling under the weight of a population that it doesn’t have the resources to sustain. Pandora had been a new start for you – signing up for the RDA had been an act of desperation. The thick smog of the cities had begun choking up your lungs, the oppressive atmosphere of the dying planet contributing to your chronic migraines, and you had known in that instinctive, bone-deep way that if you didn’t get off-world soon you would die in that dark, mouldy apartment that you were spending most of your paycheck renting.

You couldn’t go back there. You couldn’t. 

And judging from the way Ardmore is looking at you right now, she knows it.

“I’ll go pack my bag then, ma’am.” You say, defeated and dull.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

The jungles of Pandora are beautiful. You’ve only ever seen photographs, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality of it. It pulses with energy and life, vast swathes of lush greenery stretching up towards the sky like hands. When you stare down from the Samson aircarrier, you can see the lines of rivers criss-crossing like veins. Up here, you really can almost subscribe to the idea of the planet as one big living entity, like the native Na’vi believe.

It’s so different to the decaying atmosphere of Earth and the industrial hellhole of Bridgehead, but you don’t really get the opportunity to admire it properly because you’re so focused on the fact that Quaritch is angry with you.

It’s not necessarily obvious, but you’re rather embarrassed to admit that you’re incredibly attuned to Quaritch’s moods. It’s partly a survival instinct; Quaritch can be a scary motherfucker, and you feel a certain pressure to ensure that he’s kept happy. You tell yourself it’s because you’re the last member of the Support Team, but that doesn’t quite ring true.

The truth is, you have a big fat embarrassing crush on the Colonel.

You tamp it down the best you can, but Quaritch doesn’t help things. You know that he’s aware of your crush; it’s obvious in every interaction he has with you. He calls you pet names – baby, honey, cupcake – he pats your rump when you walk by, his hands linger all over you.

You’ve become so accustomed to his attention that when he turns surly, you swear to god you turn into a sad wilting houseplant taken away from the sun. 

You know you’re acting like a total loser, but it’s like you can’t quite help yourself. Quaritch’s attention is intense, and it feels all consuming in the most exciting way, so when it’s taken away it feels like a shock to the system.

It’s not that he’s ignoring you or anything, but for the few days after you’re first assigned to follow him and Wainfleet, he’s cold. He doesn’t engage much in conversation, just grunting at you, and there’s no head pats or even little ass slaps. You pretend it’s not completely pitiful to be so affected by his irritation, and you pretend not to see the sympathetic looks Wainfleet sends you when you gaze after the Colonel.

You’re good at pretending.

But one day, maybe four days after you first set out, he softens again. You’re not sure what the trigger is, but you’re so relieved that you’re not about to question anything.

And that brings you to… whatever this is. The unconventional part of your dynamic with your boss.

His cot on the air transport is tiny and narrow by Recom standards, but you fit on it just fine. With Quaritch on it too it’s a narrow squeeze, but neither of you mind. The low hum of the Samson engines thrums through the metal floor of the cargo hold, a steady rhythm beneath the quiet creak of the cot’s frame and the slick wet sounds of your mouths moving together.

Quaritch is massive even in repose, resting heavily on his back. You’re curled against his chest, one of his big arms looped around your waist to keep you anchored against him. His lips are much bigger than yours, but you’ve done this so often now that the honeyed slide of your mouths together fall into an easy, languid rhythm.

The dim red standby lights paint Quaritch’s broad Na’vi features in warm contrast, the little freckles on his face incandescent in the gloom. His golden eyes are heavy-lidded – you’re not sure if it's from arousal or fatigue. It’s the end of a long-day, and he and Lyle had been trekking around various tribes all day. He hadn’t said anything when they’d gotten back, so you had assumed that it hadn’t gone well. 

When he’d tugged you into the small room where the cots are held, the only compartment on the transport where the air is regulated for humans, that only confirmed it. Lyle had watched the two of you go, rolling his eyes.

Your breath catches as his tongue slips against yours, dominant even in leisure. One large hand slides down from your neck, tracing the curve of your spine before settling firmly on your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you squeak.

His mouth moves over yours with practiced ease, coaxing you to open, to sigh, to melt. And you do, instantly. Your hands slide up his arms, over his shoulders, fingers tangling into the knot of his braid at the base of his skull, tugging just enough to make him growl low in his throat.

When he pulls his big head back, breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva pulls taut, creating a bridge between your swollen mouths.

“Damn, you’re messy,” he huffs, thumb swiping over your glistening mouth, smearing moisture. 

His gaze darkens, but he doesn’t lean in for another kiss. Instead his broad nose nuzzles at the side of your neck, placing slow wet kisses to your jaw. Your body is quivering under his attention at his hot breath huffs against your sensitized skin.

“I gotta favour to ask, sweetpea,” He murmurs, tongue lashing just under your ear.

“A-a favour?” You repeat, shivering. 

“Mhm,” He hums, reaching up to prod a thumb at your lower lip again just to watch the soft flesh give. “Just a small one.”

You blink, trying to collect yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, feeling every point of contact between you and your boss right now. God, this is so inappropriate. You’re pretty certain that if Ardmore were to learn of this little routine, where you make out with the Colonel every damn evening as a fucked up form of stress relief, you’d be reassigned to work in the onbase McDonalds so fast your head would spin.

“Uh… yeah.” You say, sounding completely fucking stupid. “A favour. Mm. What is it?”

There’s a soft huff of breath against your damp throat, and it takes a moment to recognise it as a laugh.

“Need you to approve a weapons requisition for me.”

You’re still feeling a little damn slow on the uptake, but you nod anyway. That’s not really a favour, is it? That’s part of your job. Weapons requisition forms are pretty standard, and he usually just leaves any paperwork he wants you to sign on your desk. Maybe he’s only asking because you’re out in the bush, and there’s nowhere for him to drop it off or something. 

“Of course I can do that.” You say breathily, already leaning up to him in the hopes of getting another kiss. You’re so relieved that he’s not angry with you anymore that you think you’d agree to anything.

God, you know you’re pathetic, but when he gives you that sharp, arrogant smile, sharp canines gleaming, you feel your stomach give a sharp lurch. You try not to squirm too obviously, but your thighs press together instinctively.

“That’s my good girl,” He purrs, his chest rumbling as he leans down once more. “Keepin’ the team goin’, aintcha?”

It’s so obviously not true, just a bone he’s throwing you, but you nod your head anyway. It’s good to feel wanted, to feel useful. It’s not a feeling that you’re used to here on Pandora, always living with the heavy awareness that you’re only here because Quaritch has taken a liking to you on a whim. Even then, you’re not stupid enough to think that just because he likes to make out with you whenever he’s had a hard day, that he’s sweet on you. 

The Colonel is a man on a mission, and you’ve never been under any illusion of where your place with him is. It’s just… stress relief. When the Colonel has a mad day, he often seeks you out for lazy make out sessions, fingering, a little groping. Never any more than that, no matter how you writhe and beg.

“You gonna get that?” He murmurs against your throat, teeth dragging over your pulse point.

“Huh?” You pant, mind hazy and a little stupid. 

Your conscious awareness has narrowed down to his mouth on your neck, the suckling motions of his tongue as he licks over the marks he’s leaving. A prey instinct in the back of your mind has kicked in and is screaming at you for allowing such an enormous predator to pin you down and press his sharp teeth to your throat, but you’re so horny and dazed that you stuff that survival impulse down deep.

“I said,” He nips at your earlobe, pulling a breathy squeal from you, “Are you gonna get that?”

At first you don’t notice the beeping, too busy chasing his mouth again, lips parting eagerly. But then he pulls back to look down at you, cat-like eyes darting over your sweaty, dazed expression, and you begin to come back to yourself.

Your head snaps around, your eyes falling on your datapad where it sits across the room on your own cot. The screen is lit up as it vibrates, emitting steady beeps.

General Ardmore calling.

You let out a startled shriek, scrambling out of the cot.

Quaritch lets out a low huff, falling back onto the standard issue bunk and lazily pillowing his head with his two arms. He watches you with darkened eyes, looking both amused and annoyed. 

You scramble to straighten your uniform—it’s wrinkled, blouse misbuttoned, one strap of your bra peeking out near your shoulder. You yank it back in place, flustered.

“Oh, god,” You hiss, panicked. “Shit.”

You ignore the low rumbling chuckle from behind you as you grab the datapad. Low-level panic is causing your fingers to tremble, but you clear your throat and affect a pleasant expression as you answer the call.

The connection is a little spotty this far out, and the video feed flickers as Ardmore’s familiar scowl appears on-screen.

“Ma’am.” You greet, attempting to surreptitiously smooth down your hair.

Even through the fuzzy video, you can see her cold eyes narrow.

“Sitrep.” She barks, audio crackling.

You clear your throat, struggling to gather your thoughts. “Yes. Um. The… the Recom unit scoped out another one of the Reef clans–”

“Any sign of the kid?”

Behind you, the cot creaks as Quaritch shifts, listening in.

“Not yet, ma’am.” You say, fighting the urge to glance over your shoulder.

Even through the shitty videofeed, you can feel Ardmore eyeing you, assessing you. You’re hyperaware now of the rumpled clothes, you’re messy hair. Can she see the hickeys Quaritch’s sharp teeth have no doubt left on your throat? All you can do is pray that the connection is too bad for her to see details.

“And Quaritch?” She asks.

You hesitate, just briefly.

“He’s conducting interrogations with the clan.” You say. “Within mission parameters.”

Truthfully, you don’t have much of an idea of what goes on when Quaritch and Wainfleet move out into the wild. They leave you on the transport with the other humans, mounting their ikran and flying off to intensify the search for Quaritch’s son. When they get back they smell of gasoline and ash, and neither will offer any information about what they’ve done.

“That wasn’t my question.” Ardmore’s voice crackles, but you can hear the undertone of impatience.

You steady your voice. “He’s focused, ma’am.”

You don’t look behind you, afraid of what you might see on Quaritch’s face. He knows that Ardmore calls every night for a sitrep, he knows that she’s using you to check up on him, but you’ve never talked about it. It’s probably part of the reason he’s so reticent with information, why he keeps you in the dark on his plans.

But Ardmore doesn’t seem happy.

“Have you been out in the field with them?” She demands. “That’s what you’re there for.”

There’s no point in lying. You can tell by the look on her face that she already knows the answer, and you know where this is going.

“Um… no, ma’am.” You say hesitantly. “It was deemed too dangerous for a non-combatant–”

“I want you out there with them tomorrow.” She barks, as you had suspected.

You deflate a little, anxiety curdling in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her eyes flick briefly past the camera, then back to you, calculating.

“And you are not to involve yourself beyond observation,” she adds. “No heroics. No fraternisation.”

Your cheeks burn, hearing the unspoken accusation. “Understood.”

There’s another pause, during which Ardmore studies you like a pawn on a board she hasn’t quite decided how to use.

“Keep the channel open,” she says finally. “If anything changes, I expect to hear it immediately.”

You’ve barely begun to answer when she hangs up, the videofeed going dead. In the ensuing quiet, the hum of the air carrier and the low hiss of the oxygen tanks only seem to emphasise Quaritch’s silence.

Finally, you turn, and as soon as you catch sight of Quaritch you flush. He’s still stretched out on the cot, right where you’d left him, but what you hadn’t noticed was the unmistakable bulge in his cargo pants. God, you’re glad you hadn’t glanced behind you in the middle of that call – you’re certain you would have lost your train of thought and humiliated yourself in front of Ardmore.

But then your eyes lift to his face, and the warm simmer of arousal that had started in your belly is tempered. His jaw is clenched, his eyes dark – no longer in arousal, but now in unmistakable annoyance.

“I guess I’m coming with you two tomorrow,” You say, keeping your voice as light as possible as you stand. “Where did you say you were going?”

Instead of answering you, Quaritch stands up. He fixes his vest, ignoring his hard-on. His ears are flattened against his skull, and your stomach sinks as you realise that he’s angry.

“Next time,” he says, voice rough, “you tell her less.”

“Oh.” You say, voice small. “Right. I’m sorry. I just–”

But he’s not interested in speaking to you, because he doesn’t wait for you to finish speaking. He just grunts, stepping past you and heading for the door. 

You watch him leave, lip trembling.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

Quaritch and Wainfleet are keeping their plans from you again.

It’s obvious in the way that Quaritch doesn’t look up from his datapad once, even with you sitting by his side jabbering away. He towers over you, enormous even when sitting, with his broad shoulders and lithe waist. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he stabs a big finger at the holodisplay. He’s not the best with technology, and his ears are pinned flat against his skull in irritation.

The transport judders, an air pocket causing the small aircraft to lurch, but it barely puts a pause in your story as you lean into his side.

“But Elena said that if Kyle was going to keep sleeping around on her, then she may as well…” You trail off slowly, realising that the only one listening to you is Lyle. 

Quaritch is still frowning at something at the datapad. You squint and crane your neck, but can’t quite catch a glimpse of what he’s looking at. 

“Do you want help with that?” You ask.

You’re already reaching for the pad, used to helping him with whatever he needs, but this time he lifts it up out of your reach.

“No,” he grunts. “Leave it.”

You blink, surprised. He never usually refuses your help. If anything, he usually shoves whatever piece of tech he’s messing around with into your hands and leaves you to sort it. But this time, he angles the datapad out of sight so you can’t see what he’s doing.

It shouldn’t be surprising at this stage, but you still feel the little sting of hurt.

Lyle leans forward. “What did Elena do next?”

“Huh?” You blink, distracted now.

 Lyle is watching you, tail coiling impatiently, waiting for you to finish your story. 

“Oh, right.” You clear your throat, gathering yourself. If Quaritch is going to be like that, fine. You’ll just ignore him for a while until he decides to act right again.

“Right. So, Elena said that if he was going to keep sleeping around, they may as well just open the relationship.”

Lyle gasps, letting out a low cackle of delight. 

The rest of the flight is quiet, the silence only broken by you and Lyle murmuring together. Quaritch is distant, focusing on whatever is on his datapad. His huge hulking body is pressed right against yours, but he may as well be miles away.

It’s not until later that you really regret not asking more questions, demanding answers.

It’s late by the time the air carrier landed at a sort of village, and you’re forced to rely on the too-bright artificial floodlights to illuminate the surroundings. It’s some sort of Na’vi settlement, though it doesn’t look like any that you’ve seen photos of. It’s built between the roots of what had once been an enormous tree though its surroundings are sparse, as though the plantlife has been purposely burned back to create an ashy expanse of dirt on which they’ve constructed their raw-hide tents and wooden yurts.

The people, too, come as a shock. You’ve never actually seen a Na’vi before – the Recombinants don’t count, too human in nature to really count as alien – and you’re a little taken aback by how… different they look. It’s not just the red and black paint, or the shaved heads, or the near nudity. It’s the way they move; catlike, crouching low to the ground, hissing at each other.

Mangkwan, Lyle had muttered to you lowly.

Crates are hauled off the carrier and dropped into the dirt with heavy, final thuds. The Mangkwan swarm the crates immediately. Someone laughs, sharp and breathless. Another lets out a shriek of delight when a crate is cracked open and the contents revealed. Long blue fingers drag over dark metal like it’s something holy. The rifles are lifted, weighed, admired, before being passed hand to hand with reverence that tips quickly into glee.

You watch with a dry mouth, feeling sick to your stomach. You’re not sure what you’ve agreed to be a party to by ordering those damn weapons, but watching the exhilaration in those strange alien faces has you feeling an irrepressible feeling of sinking dread.

And then there’s the woman.

Nine feet tall, slender in that muscular Na’vi way, she towers over you. She moves like a panther, as though she’s aware of every inch of her body as she saunters around, her face lit up with a dangerous sort of delight.

You can only assume that this is the leader of the clan. Her skin is ash-streaked like the others, but unlike the others her body modifications are minimal, and she hasn’t shaved her head. Her tight braids are crowned with a headpiece that fans out in a way that reminds you a little of a frill-necked lizard you’d seen once in a nature doc.

She’s a little bit terrifying. It’s difficult not to stare.

Quaritch is sauntering around. Ostensibly, he’s overseeing the weapons drop, but to you it seems like he’s… showing off. Peacocking, almost, displaying how powerful he is, how strong, how he keeps his promises. It’s important to emphasise those things to his new allies, you know this, but the way he looks at the woman makes you… edgy.

He had pulled you in front of her, his enormous hands cupping your shoulders and pinning you in place for her perusal. The way the Na’vi around you treat her with nothing short of obeisance only solidifies your initial impression that she was the leader of the clan.

“Here she is,” He says, his chest all puffed out. “The little girl who organised all these weapons for you.”

He says it in English, then repeats it in Na’vi. You bristle at being called little girl, but don’t dare to correct him. Not while the woman is staring at you, mouth parted, like she wants to eat you alive.

You’re pretty sure you’re the first human she’s seen up close, though admittedly she doesn’t seem too interested in the human soldiers behind you who are unloading the crates. She stares at your face and features, your hair, the dimensions of your body, as though she’s trying to unravel you with her eyes alone.

When Quaritch shows the strange Na’vi woman – Varang, he had called her – the FT-M3A1 Flamethrower, he stands so close to her that he’s practically pressed up against her back. His hands linger in a way that you’re so familiar with, because it’s usually your body that they’re lingering on. 

And Varang leans back into him as they press the trigger together, hungry flames spraying out and catching onto the raw hides that they use for the village tents. Her girlish laughter rents the air as she watches the fire catch and spread across her own village.

“Booyah!” Quaritch booms, grinning wide as he watches Varang torch one of her own people’s tents.

“Booyah!” Varang echoes, almost girlish with excitement, hollering it like a war cry.

The smell of gasoline is choking even through the breathing mask, and you have to tamp down your nausea as you watch her spin on one foot, grabbing at Quaritch’s hand as the other Mangkwan descend on the shipment. 

Quaritch disappears into the tent after Varang, the beaded curtain parting just long enough to swallow his broad shoulders before falling closed again.

Your stomach clenches so hard you thought you might be sick, though you try to brush your instinctive panic away. You tell yourself that he’s just gone to talk strategy, to negotiate, to do whatever it is he does when he’s being the Colonel instead of… whatever he’s been to you. 

But the way Varang had smiled at him, so thrilled and coy, the way the curtain settles behind them, the finality of it, makes something ugly twist in your gut.

You wait for them to come back out, flinching as a Mangkwan man lets off a spray of gunfire behind you. But the curtain remains still, and no one returns.

An hour later, you’re still sitting by the cookfire in the Mangkwan camp, with Wainfleet tense at your side. Your fingers fiddle constantly with the pack at your side, the one keeping breathable air flowing steadily to your mask.

“Stop messing with that.” Wainfleet grunts without looking at you.

His eyes are fixed on that stupid beaded curtain hanging over the entrance of Varang’s tent. He’s barely looked away since the Colonel had disappeared inside.

You had realised pretty quickly that the leader of this tribe, Varang, was crazy. Like, clinically fucking insane.

It was the way she had laughed, high and girlish and totally incongruous with the way she had wrought destruction on her own village. Her eyes had glinted wildly in the reflection of the inferno, and when she had turned to Quaritch you had seen desire there. Admiration, even.

“What do you think they’re doing in there?” You ask, unable to help yourself.

Wainfleet finally tears his eyes away from the beaded curtain, only to give you a look of disbelief.

“What do I think they’re doing?” He repeats. 

Under his disbelief, there’s the unmistakable thread of sympathy. God, he feels sorry for you.

You wince, then turn away again. Probably best not to think too much about it, or you might be ill.

Behind you, the air is rent with sporadic gunfire and ululations from the triumphant Mangkwan who are still messing around with the brand new shiny weapons. You don’t even flinch anymore; they’ve been like this for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.

Wainfleet barks something at them in Na’vi. Your grasp on the language is poor; you’d taken a few classes when you were new and idealistic, but it was tough. Still, you know enough to know that he’s ordering them to stop wasting ammo. You doubt it’ll make a difference though – the only person they seem to respect enough to take orders from is Varang herself.

Sure enough, the two causing the ruckus merely sneer at Wainfleet, hissing.

The ones that aren’t shooting into the sky are dancing around the fire, their movements rough and hypnotic. When the fire spits sparks, they cheer. The atmosphere is charged, celebratory. You’re not sure what the weapons mean to them, but it doesn’t feel good.

A few are sitting near you and Wainfleet at the fire. They’re staring at you, hard. Anytime you make eye contact with them, they hiss at you, chuckling throatily when you flinch. Again, you suspect you’re the first human they’ve seen up this close. Or maybe it’s just that they usually kill your kind when they’re this close. It certainly looks as though they’re thinking about it.

Ever since you stepped foot on Pandora, the RDA had been impressing upon you how dangerous the Na’vi were, how vicious and bloodthirsty. Looking at these people before you, you can believe it. The relish that they wield the weapons with is alarming, and you feel a seed of panic in your stomach. 

You had done this, even if you didn’t realise it. It was you who had ordered the weapons, it was your signature on all those forms.

“Fuck,” You moan, burying your face in your hands. “Ardmore is going to kill me.”

Wainfleet doesn’t bother reassuring you. He just keeps watching the curtain.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

Varang has taken to watching you. A lot.

It feels… challenging. Or appraising, maybe.

You avoid her to the best of your ability. You can’t look at her without thinking of the way she and Quaritch have gotten so much closer recently. They spend most of the day together; ostensibly talking strategy, but you see the way their touches linger. Even the way they look at each other like they’re the only two people in the world, as though everything else is just background noise. When she laughs at something he says, his mouth quirks in a way you’ve only ever seen when he’s pleased. Really pleased.

It makes your chest ache.

But as the days pass, you realise something. When she’s not watching Quaritch with those bright, lamp-like eyes, she’s watching you.

It had been easy enough to ignore at first. You’ve taken to avoiding Varang, and by association Quaritch, since that night the weapons had been delivered. Perhaps part of you had been hoping that Quaritch might notice and come looking for you, leaving Varang’s side just to ensure that you are okay, but you were destined to be disappointed on that front.

You only make it two days without seeing them. You had hoped that you would be returning to Bridgehead after dropping the weapons off, convinced that your little excursion out into the wilds of Pandora had come to an end.

 But instead, Quaritch insisted that you were staying.

You’d been too flustered and bewildered to argue, simply retreating back to the aircarrier. 

It was big enough to comfortably transport everyone it needed to transport along with its cargo, but it wasn’t built for staying on longterm. The bunks are narrow and cramped, and highly uncomfortable. The only net positive was that you could take that stupid mask off and breathe the stale processed air.

That’s where you are, all curled up on the bunk that Quaritch had been sleeping in before he met… her. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but despite yourself you still find his scent comforting.

You’re trying to catch up on reports, but your mind is buzzing and you job at the datapad more violently than you should. You’ve never been very good at keeping your paperwork in order, and you know that your quality has slipped even further since all this started.

You’re currently struggling through a report for Ardmore, chewing absently on your lower lip as you try to find a neutral way to word your explanation for just what’s happened over the last few days. Things had spiralled out of control so quickly, and it’s hard to ignore the hard knot of anxiety in your tummy when you think about it.

Apparently, Quaritch had met Varang before, on the Recoms last excursion into the forest. She had connected their neural queues together and performed some kind of freaky alien connection, and now Quaritch seems to be obsessed with her. 

At least, you’d like to blame the freaky alien connection; Wainfleet certainly did. He’d told you all about the connection, all about what Spider had told them. The first connection for a Na’vi baby was their mother, then father, then the trees. You’d be lying if you said that you understood it all, but Wainfleet speaks with such grim gravity about it. You know the only connection he’s ever performed is with his ikran, and the idea of connecting with another person seems to unnerve him. He also seems convinced that the reason Quaritch is so… enamoured with Varang is because she’s taken the place of the first connection.

You’re not so sure. You’re not blind, after all. You can see that Varang is one of the hottest women you’ve ever seen in your life. She might stare at you, but when she’s not looking you stare right back.

You had been fascinated by the Colonel’s Na’vi form, no matter how you’d tried to hide it, but despite the new body his body had still very much been human. But Varang? She’s so alien to you. Your eyes trace her narrow waist, her small bound breasts, the way her hips sway like a metronome when she walks.

How could you blame the Colonel for being so enchanted with her? You can see why. They both have the same wildness to them, like their sharp edges fit together. 

You’re so lost in your miserable thoughts, that you barely notice the door sliding open or the heavy footsteps approaching.

“The hell you doin’ in here, kid?”

The Colonel’s voice has you jolting, looking up in surprise. And the sight of him standing there, breathing mask around his neck, with Varang at his side? Oh, that has you bolting upright.

Quaritch approaches with the ease of navigating familiar surroundings, and normally the sight of him coming to seek you out might have your heart thrumming. But instead, your attention is drawn to the woman following behind. 

Varang’s big golden eyes are flicking around the bunks, curious about the surroundings but clearly finding them wanting. Within seconds, her eyes land on you and stay there. 

“Sir,” You blurt, your voice pitched higher than is entirely natural. “I– The General wants a report.”

He lets out a low, unimpressed rumble.

“She’ll survive without one for the next few days,” he says. “We’ll report to her when we’ve got something to report.”

That makes you hesitate. You absolutely do have something to report. Several things, in fact; starting with Quaritch’s new infatuation with the tsahík of the Mangkwan. You had also been hoping to do a bit of damage control before Ardmore learned through the grapevine that the weapons that had been requisitioned by you had been gifted straight to a hostile Na’vi tribe.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.” You murmur, frowning.

That makes Quaritch laugh, the familiar low chuckle that has the hair on your arms standing up. Up to this point Varang had been standing quietly by his side, eyes fixed on you. It feels like being under the watchful gaze of a predator, and you’re afraid to make any sudden movements. In this environment, in the air carrier with its sleek metal walls and artificial air, she seems more naked than ever. 

Next to Quaritch in his fatigues and vest, and you in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, her long legs and lean waist draw your eyes like they’ve been magnetised.

You look away from her, flustered.

Quaritch turns to say something to Varang in Na’vi. Your grasp on the language is still weak, but you catch the gist of it. Something along the lines of; ‘Such a good girl, isn’t she?’

You’re not sure if you understand all the nuances, but Varang finally looks away from you. She raises her eyes to Quaritch, and her mouth splits into a wide, fanged smile. She looks wild and fierce under her paint, and you feel gooseflesh beak out on your skin. If she wanted to, she could split your spine up the middle with one hand. And with the way she looks at you, sometimes you think she does want to.

You feel distinctly humiliated. They’re talking about you in another language as if you’re not right in front of them, and Varang’s eye contact feels predatory and feline. You don’t miss how Quaritch’s big fingers coast over her waist, or how she coyly sways into him.

Quaritch turns back to you then. “Pack your things. You’re staying in the village.”

You double take.

“In the– what?”

Quaritch isn’t waiting around for you to wrap your head around that new order. He’s already stepping back, heading back to the main control centre of the aircarrier, but he speaks over his shoulder.

“The air carrier is rolling out tomorrow alongside the Mangkwan.” He says. “Varang here has so kindly agreed to help us with our search for Sully.”

“Oh.” You say, determinedly not looking in Varang’s direction. “Okay. But why do I–”

“You’re staying here.” Quaritch says firmly. “Don’t need you out there gettin’ in the way, or gettin’ yourself hurt.”

Getting in the way? 

You stare at him in disbelief.

“But–” You begin, “Sir, my job is to–”

“Your job is to do what I tell you to do.” Quaritch barks. “Ain’t much good to me if you get yourself killed in the field.”

And with that he’s gone, already yelling orders at some of the soldiers in the control centre. You’re left alone with Varang, who isn’t even blinking as she looks at you.

You simmer with rage, feeling like a pot that’s about to boil over. This is such bullshit. You’ve done nothing wrong! Why have you been sidelined like this? It’s true that you’ve never been an essential member of the team, but you’ve received direct orders from Ardmore to stick with him. And besides that, you were hoping that he wanted you to stick with him.

It’s not like you and Quaritch were ever in a relationship. He never struck you as the type, anyway. If anyone had bothered to ask, you would’ve said he didn’t want strings, didn’t want expectations, didn’t want to answer to anyone. You’d never talked about what the two of you were doing. You’d just fallen into it, assumed there was some kind of unspoken understanding there. It hadn’t been serious, but it had been consistent. He’d pulled you into dark corners of his office for quick kisses, his hands always finding your ass when you walked past, and you’d spent too many long evenings pressed against him, making out like it was nothing more than stress relief. Something easy. Something contained.

And now he’s found some local tail to occupy himself with, and you’ve been quietly shuffled out of the picture like you were never more than a convenience to begin with.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

And even worse is that fact that even though he’d walked off without a second glance, Varang is still there.

Her braids are pulled tight to her head, and with her ash-painted skin and black-rimmed eyes, there’s nothing to soften her features. But her eyes are what unsettle you the most. They’re such a clear shade of honey-gold, but there’s nothing bright about them. They’re dark, always sharp. You don’t know how to place the look she gives you.

 There’s no open hostility, no contempt, but you can’t help but feel as though she hates you. There’s too much energy in her stare to be anything else.

She’s a full foot shorter than Quaritch’s towering frame, but her presence is palpable. Ignoring her is impossible; it feels like she’s sucked all of the air out of the room.

When she steps closer, you don’t manage to stifle your flinch. She crouches, peering closer at you, and you feel like you’re a bug under a magnifying glass.

You keep your eyes fixed on her face, wary and on guard. Her tail coils behind her, slow and undulating like a rattlesnake.

And when she speaks, her voice is almost menacing in its softness. You’re a little distracted by how close she is, so your attention isn’t solely on her words, but you’re pretty sure you catch the gist of it.

“I will take your mate.”

Your spine stiffens, and your eyes dart to the door Quaritch had disappeared out of. There’s no chance that he had heard her, of course.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Did she think that Quaritch was your mate? And if so, she was planning on taking him from you? To steal him for herself?

Maybe you were overreacting. It’s not stealing if he was never really yours. But you’re shocked by her boldness. There’s not an ounce of apology in her smug gaze as it flickers over your face, watching you carefully. Her tail is coiled and pleased. She seems confident, as though she doesn’t have an ounce of doubt in her ability to do so.

And you hate to admit it, but you don’t doubt she could take him from you, either. You’ve seen the way he looks at her, the way he wants to please her. You can’t really blame him, either. She’s… well, she’s alluring as fuck. Even now, with her in your space and vaguely threatening you, your body strains towards her like you’re entranced.

She’s still staring at you, as though waiting for an answer.

There’s nothing you can do but muster up your best glare, then gather up the scraps of your dignity and stalk past her. You don’t look back once as you flee, unwilling to spend one more second under her golden-eyed scrutiny.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

Varang’s tent is one of the most solid structures in the village, with stitched animal hide reinforced and anchored into the ashy ground with wooden posts that have no doubt come from the remains of the enormous burnt tree that this village is nestled under. You hadn’t thought that Na’vi built with wood – something about not upsetting the flow of nature – but every dealing you have with the Mangkwan makes you think that you know nothing about the Na’vi at all. 

Maybe you need to break out that little Pandora for Beginners book you had downloaded on your datapad back when you first arrived here.

Quaritch had left you here hours ago, saying something about staying out of trouble and seeing you when he got back, but he was distracted. His mind was clearly elsewhere, taken up with hunting Sully and retrieving Spider. And, you suspect, taken up with Varang, too.

So now you wander around this weird little yurt, unsettled by the… decor. There are bones everywhere, threaded into hanging decorations like windchimes and suspended from the tent ceiling, or carved into strange little bowls containing all sorts of powders and ointments. There are other decorations made from woven plant fibres that you can only assume have been stolen from other clans, as they don’t match the style of anything else. It seems cluttered on first glance, but as you look around, trying not to feel as though the strange skins overhead are about to fall down on you, you begin to see that everything is arranged with some kind of order.

You step around the various decorations hanging from the animal hide ceiling – narrowly avoiding what you think may be a spine – and continue your exploration.

At the back of the dwelling, past yet another beaded curtain, is what you can only assume to be the sleeping area. It looks… cosy. The floor is lined with plush furs, providing a soft-to-the-touch cushion that you’re sure would be very comfortable, if you could stop imagining Varang coiled around Quaritch upon them.

You’re trying not to feel too bitter about whatever the hell it is that’s going on between them. You think you’ve been doing a decent job, but watching the Mangkwan mount up on their ikran and take off after the air carrier, leaving you behind like a spare part, is kind of doing a number on you.

She’s my Jolene, you think miserably.

You spend the day in the tent. You finish a preliminary report to Ardmore that you don’t send, and then you just… lounge around, lost in your thoughts. There’s nothing to do but think – you don’t even nose around, because you’re terrified of disrupting something of Varang’s that might cause her to come back and eat your head off.

Quaritch has always sort of treated you like a little pet. The worst part though, was the way you kind of liked it.

As the least competent person on the Recom Support Team, hired last and trusted with the least amount of work, you’ve always been aware that the Colonel hired you because he thought that you were soft and pretty to look at. You had thought that you would be offended by that, but instead you’re… kind of flattered. No one else had ever seen anything worth remarking upon when it came to you.

You liked the head pats, the pet names, the way he’d guide you by the elbow or keep you tucked just behind him like something fragile but owned. It was humiliating, if you thought about it too long. It was also intoxicating. Being useful was nice, even if you knew he was only indulging you.

It’s stupid and humiliating to admit, even to yourself, but you miss the attention, the casual possessiveness, the way he used to keep a hand on you like he was absentmindedly checking you were still there. You miss being noticed, being managed. Being indulged. Now his focus slips past you too easily, caught by something sharper and louder and far more interesting than you ever were, and it leaves you painfully aware of how conditional your place with him has always been.

And why were you being kept in Varang’s tent anyway?! It felt like salt being rubbed into an already raw wound.

‘I will take your mate’, she had said. There was nothing ambiguous about that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

To your bewilderment, even when Quaritch and the Mangkwan return from their outing, you’re not permitted to return to the air carrier.

It feels like the worst kind of joke, having to share a tent with the two of them. Quaritch had returned with a supply of spare masks for you, but there had been no conversation about it. It’s like he had just assumed you’d be happy to move in with him and his weird witchy alien girlfriend. 

God, it boils your blood.

Varang had even set up a tiny little sleeping area for you, right next to theirs! She had maintained eye contact with you as she had done it, arranging those small plush furs so close to theirs that it was impossible to take it as anything other than mockery. Why the hell did she want you so close if not to wave in your face what you couldn’t have?

And then to watch you so closely for a reaction! God, she’s the worst.

You refuse to give her the reaction she’s so clearly hoping for. You just turn up your nose, and move the furs immediately to the other side of the yurt. 

She watches you set up your new sleeping station, scowling, and you feel a rush of triumph. She’s not going to get to you that easily.

You’re so used to having Quaritch’s attention all to yourself, but now it’s split. He doesn’t even really ask you to do anything anymore. Now, it’s like you’re a pet for real. You spend most of the ensuing days lounging in the furs, bored out of your mind. 

When Quaritch had first come back to the tent and seen your new bedding set up on the opposite side of the tent, he had rolled his eyes and huffed in irritation.

“Sulkin’ don’t suit you, baby,” He warns even as he steps past you. “Gotta adapt.”

You scowl, and don’t bother answering.

Quaritch is always busy, either planning with Wainfleet or whispering and grinning with Varang. When they come back to the tent, you make yourself scarce. You really don’t want to see whatever goes on between them when they’ve got privacy. The scenes that your imagination offers up when you finally sneak back into your little furs at night to sleep are bad enough.

One good thing that comes of your strange little stint in the Mangkwan village is that your grasp on the Na’vi language improves drastically by being so immersed in it.

During the times that you’re avoiding Quaritch and Varang, you wander around the Mangkwan. They’re not as scary as they had initially seemed to you. They don’t bother you when you walk by them, at least, and some even exchange some words with you. You assume it’s down to your proximity to Quaritch, or maybe the fact that you’re currently staying in their tsahìk’s tent. 

But their tolerance doesn’t extend to Wainfleet, who they often brush off, hissing at him.

You’ve spent the day wandering the village, eager to escape Varang’s relentless staring. You swear that her scrutiny has gotten worse recently, or maybe it’s just because now that you’re sharing the tent with them, it’s difficult to escape her attention unless it’s fixed on Quaritch.

By evening time, you end up sitting with Wainfleet for a while, watching while the Mangkwan eat and dance and wrestle with each other. Sometimes you can’t tell if they’re playing or fighting – everything just seems so violent, enough that you flinch into Wainfleet’s side every time they clash.

At your side, Wainfleet is cleaning his sniper rifle. His eyes are watchful, darting around the gathering in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t trust anyone around him. On your other side is Zari, a Mangkwan woman who has taken to the human-style weapons with great relish. She’s learning how to use a rifle just like Wainfleet’s, and she’s watching him and trying to copy his cleaning motions with her own gun.

A few days this week you’ve tagged along with Wainfleet to watch him train the Mangkwan with the weaponry, just to get out of the damn tent. Zari is one of the few that deign to exchange some conversation with you in Na’vi, so that you can improve. She was injured in a raid, so she seems to find extra enjoyment out of training with the guns, and she has plenty of time to speak with you.

As you hold a fairly clumsy conversation with Zari, you struggle to ignore the stare piercing into the side of your head.

You’ve begun to get a little better at pretending you don’t notice Varang’s ceaseless staring, but Zari is quite clearly affected by it. She’s tense at your side, ears pinned to the side of her head and tail held very still at her side. Occasionally her eyes dart towards her tsahìk, before glancing quickly away again.

You simply refuse to look in Quaritch and Varang’s attention. You know that they’re sitting together, probably leaning all into each other’s space, tails entwined like usual. Watching them like this makes you feel a little crazy. Bad enough you need to share a sleeping space with them, listening to them whisper and giggle like goddamn teenagers at a sleepover. You don’t need to watch them playing footsie over dinner, too.

Zari is shifty enough under Varang’s watchful eye that your stilted conversation doesn’t last very long. You huff quietly when she ducks her head to return her full attention to her gun again.

Varang is doing this on purpose, you know it. At first the staring had felt like a challenge, like she was mocking you. But now it feels as though she’s trying to be intimidating, like she doesn’t want you making friends around the village or getting too comfortable. But then why invite you to stay in her tent? 

Sighing, you turn to Lyle to speak in English.

“I still don’t get why I’m not allowed to stay on the air carrier with the rest of the humans.”

Wainfleet just grunts. “Boss doesn’t want you staying with the soldiers.”

You frown. There’s a kernel of logic there, you suppose. As the only civilian woman on this mission, it could be argued that you were removed for your own safety. But that argument fell apart when you considered that you had been moved into a tent with an alien woman that hated you and probably wanted you dead for being previously entwined with your boss.

“I don’t like staying in the tent,” You complain, feeling like a petulant child. “Why can’t I just stay in your tent? You know I don’t take up much space.”

Wainfleet doesn’t answer, his attention taken up with oiling the bolt on his rifle.

You scowl, irritation settling heavily over you. Around you, the Mangkwan are still eating or dancing, shoving each other and issuing challenges, or yipping in victory. While a few of them still side-eye Wainfleet, not fully happy with his presence, you don’t even seem to register to them. Quaritch, at the other side of the fire, is the subject of reluctantly admiring glances.

As eclipse approaches and the sky darkens into a deep burnt umber, Zari pauses her cleaning in favour of turning to you.

“Tsahìk will want you to return to tent before dark.” She says, speaking slowly for you.

Despite yourself, you like Zari. She’s been nice enough to you, though her shaved head, bone piercings, and war paint is still alien enough to you to give you pause. But just like all the Mangkwan, she has that weird, almost worshipful reverence towards Varang.

You hum to show her that you’ve heard, but make no move to return to the tent. Why the hell would Varang care if you were back before dark?

 Instead, you look at Wainfleet with a pout.

“I hate her.” You grumble, kicking your feet. 

Wainfleet just grunts.

Irritated, you turn your scowl on him. “Seriously? Is that all you have to say?”

“Kid,” he says tiredly, finally looking around at you. “I ain’t stupid enough to get all twisted up in… whatever this is.”

He makes a vague hand gesture that seems to encompass you, and Quaritch and Varang, and the tent behind the gathering. 

You bristle instinctively. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wainfleet finally sets the gun down, giving up the pretense of distraction. When he turns to you, he looks a little bit pained.

“Look, I didn’t really get what was between you and the boss even before this,” He says lowly. “But whatever the hell is going on between you two and the witch lady really ain’t my business.”

You gape at him, mouth open and stunned.

“Nothing is going on between us!” You say when you finally manage to regain your senses. “I thought that maybe the Colonel– that maybe– I don’t know! But there’s certainly nothing now that he’s with her.”

Wainfleet gives you the kind of look that suggests he thinks you’re an idiot.

“You sleep in their tent with them.” He points out.

“Not with them!” You snap reflexively. You feel like a prickly cat, overdefensive. “That’s just– that’s where the Colonel put me!”

He just huffs, shaking his head, and turns away.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Whatever. If you wanna get fucked nasty by them, I’m pretty sure all you gotta do is spread yourself out in that crazy lady’s stupid furs and wait for them to pounce.”

Once again, you’re struck dumb. Wainfleet has never spoken to you so bluntly. You’ve seen him in action mode, intimidatingly serious and quiet, but most of the time around you he’s been pretty light-hearted. He plays up the stereotype of stupid army grunt, but he’s wicked sharp and unfailingly loyal. 

He’s been stressed lately, on edge around the Mangkwan and tense ever since they’ve been armed, but this is the first time he’s directed any of that stress towards you.

“I– I don’t–” You say stiffly, but you can’t even bring yourself to finish.

God, this is embarrassing. Do you want to be fucked nasty by them? You’d been so distracted by your changing circumstances that you haven’t thought anything of the sort. At least, not really. Nothing that you’d be willing to admit to.

Wainfleet has picked up his gun, finishing cleaning and oiling it with quick, jerky moments. The conversation is clearly over.

Humiliation simmers in your belly as you gather yourself up, refusing to look Wainfleet’s way. To your immense frustration, you feel tears pricking at your eyes.

Since you came to Pandora, you’ve been so damn lonely. You’d been a bit of an outcast within the Support Team, with such an obvious gap between capability and experience. The way that Quaritch had treated you had set you apart from them, and you’d never managed to make any friends even after they had been wiped out in the battle with the Metkayina. 

You weren’t friends with Wainfleet exactly, but there had been a sort of camaraderie you’d had with him that you’d taken comfort in. Now, you’re embarrassed as hell.

What had you been thinking, dumping all your problems onto Wainfleet? He’s a soldier, and he’s currently got much bigger problems with the ongoing conflict – he doesn’t have time to listen to you whine.

You slink away from the cookfire like a kicked dog. 

The idea of returning to Varang’s tent and having to watch her and Quaritch curl up close whispering to each other feels like way too much for you to deal with right now. So you decide instead to return to the air carrier. You doubt Quaritch will even notice that you’re missing.

As you slip out of the village, you garner a few curious looks from the Na’vi you pass. Thankfully, no one tries to stop you.

The huge shining metal frame of the Samson air carrier is tucked into the sparse vegetation a short walk from the village. It sticks out like a sore thumb; the Mangkwan avoid it, and the human soldiers avoid approaching the clan without Quaritch’s directive.

It feels like it’s been an age since you’ve been to the Samson, though it can’t be more than a week since you’ve arrived with Quaritch and he’d struck the deal with Varang. So much has happened in the last week, but at the same time you’ve been doing hardly anything other than stewing in your own thoughts.

Still, you’re eager to get inside the carrier, looking forward to the opportunity to remove the damn breathing mask and get some sleep. The cots are austere and uncomfortable, but at least you’ll get a break from Varang’s stupid yurt.

As you approach the Samson, you see some of the soldiers gathered around outside, guns in hand. You think for a moment that they’re just practicing their shooting, though it strikes you as off that they’re doing so as dark falls.

Then you get closer and hear the sloppy laughter, and see the glassy eyes, and you realise that these morons are drunk. They have their guns, but they’re just shooting at some of the glowing mushrooms that are growing in the underbrush. They’re not hitting much, either, their shots going wide and spraying dirt up.

The sound of their slurred goading and snickers has your steps faltering.

Shit. 

You know exactly what these guys are like when they’re drunk, and you know it’s not a good idea to go anywhere near them. It’s an even worse idea to go near them without either of the Recoms near you – their enormous stature is usually enough to scare off even the most persistent of creeps.

You think of the way Quaritch had insisted that it was safer to stay in Varang’s tent, how he had been insistent that you weren’t to stay on the Samson. As much as you hate to admit it, he might have been right.

But you’ve already stormed away from the village, and the air carrier is right there. Maybe you can slip by without them noticing.

You aim for nonchalance as you attempt to skirt around them, giving them a wide berth. You figure if you don’t look at them, if you don’t acknowledge them, there’s a chance they’ll stay in their own little orbit of stupidity and leave you alone.

The ramp to the air carrier is within a stone’s throw when one of them staggers back, laughing, and catches sight of you.

“Hey,” he calls, voice thick and sloppy. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You don’t respond. You pretend you didn’t hear it, your feet crunching softly over ash and dead leaves as you keep walking. When Quaritch had started going around barefoot, you had copied him without thinking too much about it. You regret that now – if you have to run, it’s going to be harder.

There’s snickering behind you, and even without looking you’re unnerved to find that they sound like they’re closer now.

“C’mon,” another man says. “Don’t be like that.”

A shot cracks through the air, close enough that you flinch despite yourself. Dirt sprays up a few feet ahead of you, glowing faintly where some bioluminescent spores are disturbed. The laughter spikes, ugly and filled with macho overconfidence.

You freeze, shoulders tense. Jesus Christ. 

“Whoa, she jumped,” the first guy snickers. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart.”

Slowly, you turn your head just enough to look at them, keeping your body angled away. There are three of them. Maybe four. It’s hard to tell in the low light, as they’re still standing in a loose group. You can’t see their faces all that well behind their masks, but their weapons are loose in their hands and their posture is sloppy in that particular way that means they think they’re untouchable.

The moment feels fragile, and you have a distinct awareness that these men are drunk and reckless enough to snowball things well past the point of no return.

“I’m just heading back to the carrier,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even. “You guys should probably pack it in. It’s, uh, getting late.”

There’s a beat of silence, and for one wild and naive moment you actually think they might listen. But then they share a look, and burst into ugly, snickering laughter.

​​“Jesus,” one of them says. “Hear that? She’s givin’ orders now.”

Another takes a step closer, eyes dragging over you in a way that makes your skin crawl. “You ain’t supposed to be out here alone, are you?”

Your pulse starts to thud in your ears, acidic panic rising up your throat. 

“I– the Colonel knows I’m here.” You lie.

“Oh, yeah?” He grins, slow and ugly. “‘S the Colonel able to look beyond that little blue piece of ass he’s been hangin’ out of?”

“He’s–” You start to say, but cut yourself off when they start to move.

They don’t move quickly or anything, but there’s nowhere for you to go as they start spreading out. They box you in, so there’s no way to slip past them.

“I don’t want any trouble,” you say, hating the way it comes out smaller than you intended.

“That’s good,” the first man says, grinning as he steps forward. “Neither do we.”

“Just thought maybe you’d keep us company for a minute,” the second man adds. “Gets lonely out here.”

You swallow thickly, and your dry throat clicks in the silence. “No, I– I should be getting back to Quaritch– actually.”

A few of their expressions change at that, smiles dropping into something unfriendlier. The two at the front keep their sloppy drunk grins plastered on, though irritation flickers over their faces. You know you’re dealing with the fragile egos of men who aren't used to being told no, and they feel unpredictable.

“You need to relax,” One of them says with the air of imparting sound advice. “You’re wound tight as hell. You been neglected, huh?”

Your skin prickles as he steps forward, and you tense.

You stiffen as he closes the distance, every instinct in your body screaming at you to move, to run, but there’s nowhere left to go. The Samson ramp is behind them now, blocked by broad shoulders. Their size is nothing compared to the towering Na’vi you’ve been spending so much time around recently, but they’re still big bulky military men. You know you don’t stand a chance against them.

The third one laughs, low and ugly. “Bet she’s bored stiff. All alone in that ash pit with the freaks.” He steps forward, reaching for your arm. “Want a good time, sweetheart?”

Your jaw tightens. You can feel your heart hammering, loud enough you’re half-convinced they can hear it too.

“I said no,” You say, your voice thin but sharp. “Back the fuck off.”

That finally wipes the grin off his face. Not completely, but enough. His eyes harden, the drunken amusement souring into something resentful.

“Watch your mouth,” he snaps. “You ain’t in Bridgehead anymore.”

You’re so busy running through scenarios in your head – which way you’ll dodge, how you’ll escape, how you’ll lose them if they follow, how you’ll scream – that when they actually make a grab for you it catches you totally by surprise.

You squeal, attempting to twist out of his grip, but several things happen in quick succession.

In your panic, your mind registers the low hissing sound as being akin to air being let out of a pressurised container. It’s low, steady, accompanied by an odd snarling rumble.

Nearly in the same moment, the man who had grabbed her is town roughly away. You yelp as his blunt fingernails leave scratches on your arm, though it’s more from shock than pain.

Everything happens so fast that your mind barely keeps up. The men are yelling, and then one of them staggers back and knocks into you, hand cracking across your mask hard enough to rattle your skull. You go down hard, sprawling in the dirt and knocking your head on the way down.

By the time you pick your head up, your eyes are watering and two of the three guys are unconscious on the ground. The last, the one who had grabbed you, is the only one left standing, though it doesn’t look like he will be for long.

Towering over you all, face contorted in a look of poisonous rage, is Varang. But you’ve never seen her like this.

She seems impossibly tall, her spine curved as she bares her teeth at the man cowering below her. Her red headpiece flares over her head, giving the impression of a threat display as if her wickedly sharp canines aren’t enough. In the dark, she looks like some sort of vengeful demon.

The man is babbling something, panicked and frantic, but it falls on deaf ears. Varang doesn’t understand a word he’s saying, nor does she seem interested.

She brings her hand down on him in one hard, brutal slap, and he hits the ground with an ominous crack. He doesn’t get back up again. In fact, he doesn’t move at all.

“Oh god,” You babble, scrambling to try and get to your feet again. “Jesus, fuck–”

Varang turns on you then, and for a wild moment you’re certain that you’re next. You flinch when she steps forward, whimpering.

But no blow comes. She crouches in front of you, that familiar stare darting over you, assessing. She’s angry – you can feel it rolling off of her in waves.

Ridiculously, your eyes begin to sting, welling up with tears. Maybe it’s delayed shock from that horrible encounter, or maybe it’s the fact that Varang is angry with you, but it all suddenly feels like too much.

The first sob that escapes you is so loud that it hurts your chest, jarring your whole body. 

Varang stiffens.

A large hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you to your feet. Bizarrely, you think she’s actually trying to be gentle, but she’s twice your size and doesn’t seem to really understand how much stronger she is. 

You yelp once when she yanks you after her, and she seems to make some attempt to slow, but the pace she keeps is clipped and rushed. You stumble after her, sobs melting into anxious gasps as you try to keep up with her. She’s holding your wrist, and you end up toddling clumsily alongside her like a child.

She leads you back to the village quickly, hissing at a few Na’vi who are in her path. They scramble aside, their large eyes watching curiously as you stumble alongside their tsahìk. Some of them call after her, asking questions, but you’re too distracted to parse the words and Varang isn’t stopping to answer.

For the first time since you’ve gotten to this place, you’re relieved when you make it to the tent. Sometime during the walk you’d started clinging to Varang’s hand, and she’s not shy about towing you behind her.

Inside the tent, Quaritch lounges shirtless in the furs. To your surprised bewilderment, all he’s wearing is a loincloth, same as the other Na’vi you’ve seen. He’s scrolling through a datapad of his own, his tail curling languidly at his side.

He glances up when Varang appears, shoving aside hanging hides and bone decorations, but you don’t think he really registers the expression of fury on her face or the tears on yours. His eyes have instead fallen on your joined hands, and a pleased smirk spreads across his face.

“You finished throwin’ your hissy fit then, sweetheart?” He drawls, setting the datapad aside so he can lean back lazily. “Good to see you’ve finally come around to–”

But then he catches sight of your faces, and he sits up again. His sanguine grin disappears, replaced by a furrowed brow as his Colonel personal falls down like a curtain.

“What the hell happened?” He barks, and his eyes linger on your tear-streaked cheeks under mask.  

Varang finally releases your hand; to your surprise, it’s you that clings to her. When she lets out a little rumbling noise you snatch your hand back, but there’s no time for shame to set in before she plants one of her large hands between your shoulderblades and starts pushing you towards the furs.

All the fight in you has gone, because you simply allow yourself to be pushed. 

She says something to Quaritch, but it’s fast and angry and you only catch a handful of words; ‘man’, ‘take’, ‘mine’, ‘slap’.

Quaritch’s back is stiff as he listens to her, frowning. His eyes fall on you then, and he reaches an arm and quirks two fingers at you, the command clear: ‘come here’.

You don’t even hesitate. You practically fall into the furs, clambering on your hands and knees like a whimpering little kid as you crawl toward him. You’re vaguely cognisant of Varang crawling after you, twice your size and still emanating waves of irritation.

Quaritch’s big hand cups your jaw just beneath the mask, tilting her head back so he can take a look at your face. You’re still sniffling, eyes red and puffy, and your nostrils are beginning to itch where the blood is drying and crumbling.

“Got a crack across the face, didja?” He murmurs lowly, thumb stroking over the corner of your jaw and earlobe.

Despite yourself, you bristle. Your shock is beginning to wear off a little, and now you’re getting defensive and angry. How the hell have you ended back up in the one place you were trying to avoid.

“Is that all you have to say?” You ask for the second time that evening. 

God, you’re starting to get seriously sick of military assholes.

He raises a brow, then gestures at Varang. “Well, I’m guessin’ that she took care of ‘em.”

You think of the way she had brutally smacked them into the ground, the sickening crunch of their bodies hitting the ground. You’re pretty certain they hadn’t been moving. Jesus, had she killed him?

Varang sits behind you, her tail swishing lazily like a cat. She has no idea what you two are saying, but her ears had pricked up when Quaritch had gestured at her. Now, she’s looking at you as though she’s expecting something from you.

You glance away. Her stare is even more intimidating up close.

“I was just trying to–” You begin, but to your frustration your voice cracks in upset.

Two twin rumbles erupt, making you flinch a little. Then two big hands land on your hips and suddenly your world flips. You squeak, startled, suddenly finding yourself on your back staring up at the animal hide tent ceiling. But then your vision is filled with Varang’s face as she leans over you, and suddenly she’s all you see.

She begins tugging roughly at your shirt, and you squeal in surprise as the fragile fabric tears with a loud rip.

“Jesus, woman,” Quaritch swears in English, before switching to Na’vi. “Easy! I told you, slow–”

“Have been doing slow!” She hisses back, teeth bared. “Not working!”

You’re startled to see that her canines are a little longer than Quaritch’s. Maybe it’s just a difference between native Na’vi and Recom bodies, but it adds to the wildness of her.

Quaritch huffs, but he doesn’t seem annoyed. He seems… amused?

He turns back to you, grin turned a bit wry. “Sorry, sweetheart. Gonna have to take your clothes off.”

You goggle at him.

“Take my– what?”

Varang is tugging at your trousers now, but they’re proving more of a challenge for her. She seems to be familiar with the mechanism of the button and zip – and there’s a pang that comes with the knowledge that it’s probably from unbuttoning Quaritch’s fatigues – but the belt seems to be an obstacle. She hisses at the buckle, aggravated.

“She don’t like all these clothes,” He says, though he needn’t have bothered. You could see that. “Just take ‘em off while you’re in the furs, yeah? Make life easier for yourself.”

You’re a little annoyed that he capitulates to anything she wants, but with the way she’s so damn insistently tugging at your clothes even you have to admit that it’s the easier option.

“Okay!” You snap at her, unbuckling your own belt and shuffling out of your trousers.

She sits back, pleased, and watches. You try not to tremble under her big yellow unblinking stare as you strip down to your simple, functional cotton underwear. You wish you were wearing nicer panties, then you curse yourself for thinking something so stupid. The underwear issued by the RDA are simple, functional, and unflattering, but it’s not as though either of them were expecting lingerie.

Varang’s eyes dart over you. For a moment you think she’s checking you for injuries and you spare a second of surprise – you hadn’t thought she cared. But then you see her eyes linger on your tits in your ill-fitting bra and the greying cotton clinging to your hips.

“She’s staring.” You whisper to Quaritch, mortified. You raise a hand to press over your chest.

But when you look to Quaritch, he’s staring too.

“She’s been so excited to get to know you,” He drawls without taking his eyes off you. “But I told her to take it slow. That you’re a skittish little thing.”

You stare at him, feeling as though you’ve missed a step. 

“...What?”

Varang has nestled herself into the fur now, coiled like a jungle predator. A tiger, maybe, or a lioness. Even at rest, her long grey-blue limbs folded in elegant lines, she gives the impression of latent energy, of danger.

When she reaches out with one long dusky finger and begins to trail a light touch over your bare shoulders, you have no idea how to react.

Up close, her scent floods your senses even through the mask-filtered air—hot earth, cinders, salt, something musky and deep. When you don’t flinch away from her she rolls closer, as though taking your stillness as tacit permission to keep touching.

“What’s happening?” You whisper, and your voice comes out pitched higher in uncertainty.

Quaritch just chuckles. He’s leaning back with his arms folded behind his head, looking for all the world like this is a totally normal occurrence. His interest is betrayed though by the flicking of his tail and the intensity of his eyes as he watches Varang’s fingertips coast over your collarbone.

“We’ve been waitin’ for you to get your damn panties out of the twist you’d knotted in ‘em,” he says. “But Varang ain’t a patient lady.”

“My panties are not in a twist.” You snap reflexively, before actually thinking about what he’d said. “Patient?”

Quaritch huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Jesus, kid,” He says in exasperation. “I know you ain’t always the quickest, but c’mon now.”

You fumble for an answer but before you manage to say anything, there’s a weight in your lap. Varang’s every movement is so quick and sinuous that you barely even see her begin to move – one minute she’s reclining at your side, and the next she’s swung herself to straddle your legs.

“Eep.” You let out the least dignified sound you’ve ever made, staring up at her with wide eyes.

Beside you both, Quaritch lets out a breathy snort. “Like I said, impatient. You've been playin’ hard to get for too long.”

Hard to get?

Varang looms over you, the size difference stark and shocking. She’s so tall but so lithe, her proportions alien and alluring. Her tail flicks behind her as she stares down at you with quiet intensity. Up close like this as she leans over you, you can see the small round bumps from scarification over her hairless brows and the bridge of her nose, down her long abdomen. You had originally thought that she didn’t have as many little glowing freckles as Quaritch did, but now you can see that they’re just covered by the scars or the ashy streaky paint she’s covered in.

She leans down, nostrils flaring slightly as she inhales your warm human scent from your neck. You hold very still, eyes wide. The prey instinct in the back of your mind is screaming – she could so easily bite through tendons and sinew with those sharp teeth, and she’s very close to your throat.

But then she leans back, huffing in a way that sounds pleased.

Her fingers are calloused from archery, and they tickle a little as they slide over your collarbone, pausing at the worn strap of your bra. That strange little half-smile of hers lingers around her lips as she tugs at it just to watch it snap back into space.

Her large thumb brushes over the swell of your breast, lingering on the nub of your hardened nipple through the thin cotton.You squeak, startled, but there’s nowhere to escape to; it feels like Varang’s bulk is encompassing you, like she’s the only thing left in the world.

She tugs at your bra. The fabric strains, stitches popping, but holds firm.

“I do not like this.” She says to Quaritch, her expression turning a little scowly. “How do I remove, Quaritch?”

The way she says his name, accented and all drawn out, is actually a little bit cute. You don’t get much time to think on it though, before Quaritch’s big hands are worming their way under your back.

“Hey–” You start to gasp, but then Varang takes you by the shoulders and pulls you up so that you’re sitting, giving Quaritch more access to your back.

With a practiced hand, he undoes the clasp of your bra in one easy snap.

You gasp as Varang tugs the shitty fabric aside, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder.

You think you should probably be giving at least a token protest, even just to maintain your own dignity, but you’re embarrassed to find that you can’t. It’s been a very long time since you’ve been bare in front of anyone. And even longer since someone has looked at you so hungrily.

Sure, you’ve had your lazy make out sessions with Quaritch in his office, or in the Recom bunks when no one else was around, but you’ve never been unclothed. Even those few times he’s fingered you with those gloriously big long fingers of his, you haven’t been fully naked.

“What’s happening?” You whisper, eyes darting between them uncertainly. 

Quaritch says something to Varang, and she shifts. As she swings her leg over you, moving off of you, you’re distracted by the coiled strength in her thighs. She’s pure muscle, the carbon fibre-infused bones adding even more weight to her, but she moves with an ease that you’re grateful for. One wrong move would probably crush you, but she’s too nimble for any stray hits.

You’re able to sit up now, and you do so slowly. Now that her tall body isn’t curtaining you, you’re more self-conscious than ever. You feel exposed, and you cross your arms over your chest in embarrassment.

“Jesus,” Quaritch says. “Don’t overthink it, kid.”

“Overthink it?” You repeat in disbelief. “She took my clothes off!”

Varang is still smiling; just a coy little curve to her lips. She might not understand your words, but she still looks amused by you. Maybe your human modesty is a novelty to her.

“‘Cause she wants to fuck you.” Quaritch says bluntly. “Thought that was obvious.”

It feels like your world has been turned on its head, again. For a very long moment, all you can do is stare. The words ‘fuck you’ and ‘obvious’ keep replaying in your mind, and you can’t quite decide which element to address first. 

“Fuck me?” You repeat at last, eyes darting anxiously towards Varang and her coiling tail. “You mean… like, fucking me up?”

Varang smiles, a finger reaching out to brush over your nipple. To your mortification, it stiffens further under the attention. You don’t quite have the presence of mind to pull away.

But Quaritch is staring at you, looking stumped and a little irritated.

“What?” He says. “Why would she–”

“She hates me!” You hiss. “I thought–”

“Hates you?” Quaritch has the nerve to look flummoxed. “Kid, she’s groping your tits.”

“I can see that!” You shriek, voice cracking.

That makes Varang pause, her broad brow furrowing in confusion. She looks to Quaritch, clearly seeking an explanation for your distress.

Quaritch just snorts, leaning back. The fact that he’s not taking you seriously only makes you more irritated. You’re sure that you’re stiff like an angry cat, your expression like thunder.

“You’ve been ignoring me all week!” You accuse. You want to sound angry, but you fall just short. Embarrassingly, you sound hurt instead.

You attempt to rally yourself, scowling weakly. “You don’t get to ignore me and then try to drag me into a threesome–”

Quaritch has the audacity to roll his eyes.

“Come on, honey. It’s not like that.”

“What is it like, then?” You shoot back.

Honestly, you’re a little impressed by your own spine. You usually find the Colonel scary enough to have your knees weakening, and you’ve never managed to work up the courage to express your feelings to him. But this time it’s different; you’ve had a shit day after a shit week which has followed a shit few months. You feel like you’re about to burst. 

“I’ve given you space, sweetheart, but my patience is at its limit.” Quaritch sighs. “Can a man not want his girls to get on?”

His girls? You blink, thrown off. Quaritch doesn’t seem to notice your pause, and Varang is still curled behind you – despite not understanding your conversation, her elegant long fingers are tracing curious patterns over your ears, the sides of your neck, the length of your spine and each knob of your vertebrae.

“Can’t help that we’re mated now,” Quaritch says, his eyes darting over you to Varang. “Not like it was planned, but there’s no gettin’ out of it. These people do it for life, you know.”

 He reaches over your head to brush one of her thin braids behind a pointed ear, and she playfully nips at his finger. You feel a deep throb of envy. 

Mated. You had suspected that they weren’t just fucking, but it hadn’t been confirmed until just now. It feels like a punch to the gut, but Quaritch continues before you can wallow.

“I gave you space to think about things, but you shuttin’ down ain’t helping anything. Varang’s been chewing my ear off all week to get you into the damn furs with us.”

The whole conversation has been one bizarre revelation after another, but this one might actually take the cake. Varang wanted you naked and in their furs? You had thought she wanted you dead.

“She hates me,” You blurt. “She doesn’t want me near you.”

That earns a harsh bark of laughter from Quaritch. You’re aware, of course, that it’s a ridiculous thing to say when you’re all hunched almost naked in her weird witchy tent. They’re both looming over you, practically sandwiching you, and Varang hasn’t taken her hands off of you once since your bra came off.

“Well,” Quaritch drawls, grinning. “As much as I like the idea of havin’ two pretty girls fightin’ over me, I'm not all too sure that’s what was happenin’, baby.”

There’s a beat of silence as that settles over you. The events of the last week begin reshuffling and recontextualising in your head. You had thought that Varang had been mocking you after mating with Quaritch and pulling him away from you, but now you feel stupid and self-obsessed. But why would she want you like that? Just to satisfy a curiosity?

“It’s normal for ‘em,” He continues as though you have any idea what he’s talking about. “They got no hang ups about it.”

You stare at him. Slowly, you’re beginning to put the pieces together. You’re not stupid, but it all seems so silly and unlikely that you’re having a hard time believing it.

“Threesomes?” Even saying it out loud has your body flushing with embarrassed heat. 

God, you’ve never done anything like that before. It feels like a fever dream that this is even being suggested.

Quaritch shrugs, the motion lazy and almost insouciant. “Well, it’s the natural solution, ain’t it?”

Wet heat runs up the side of your neck, and you lose track of the conversation instantly. You jolt, squealing, but Varang’s tail has wrapped around your waist and she’s baring her teeth.

“Too much talk, Quaritch,” She says, her voice low and smokey. “Stop distracting her.”

Quaritch just grins and lies back, outstretched in the furs in just that tiny loincloth. The yurt is dimly lit with small flames in the braziers littered around the place, and the flickering light casts the musculature of his lean Na’vi body into sharp relief. God, he’s so hot. His arrogance should probably be a turn off, but you’re embarrassed to admit that it only adds to the wetness between your legs.

“She screws like she fights,” He whispers like he’s sharing a secret. “Brutal and fiery. But I’ve told her to take it slow and easy.”

And with that he folds his arms lazily behind his head, cushioning his skull with his biceps as he watches the two of you with a grin.

For a moment you just sit there, feeling like a spare part. You’ve never had a threesome before, so you’re not sure what you’re meant to do right now. Are you both meant to suck his dick at once? Do you, like, fight for who goes first? Is there meant to be a weird sort of competition over his dick? You’re not sure you could beat her–

But Varang isn’t moving on Quaritch. She’s moving on you.

All you can do is gasp as she pushes you down. It’s not that she’s rough, but she moves with purpose and she’s so much bigger and stronger that even a light nudge completely flattens you. Now that you’re looking at her in this new light, her smile doesn’t look so mocking. Now it looks pleased, excited even.

Your legs are splayed open and Varang crawls between your thighs. Every move is deliberate, and she’s slowed right down. You think she’s going slow on purpose – obviously, Quaritch’s words have stuck with her. Where she had been forceful earlier, she’s cautious now.

You swallow thickly, and hear your throat click in the quiet.

“Off.” Varang coos, her long fingers hooking into your cheap panties. She’s smiling at you like she thinks you’re a bit stupid.

You glance at Quaritch reflexively. He’s watching the two of you closely. You think, a little uneasily, that he looks like he’s trying to guess her next move.

Still, when she tugs at your panties again, you allow her to pull them off you. She tosses them aside carelessly to join your bra, and then her big eyes fix between your legs.

When she sees you fully naked for the first time, her reaction surprises you. She laughs, high and girlish.

Your legs snap shut so quickly. It doesn’t even matter that she’s still between your thighs, blocking them from shutting fully, because you scramble to get up. The immediate impulse is to flee – you don’t even know where, because it’s not like you have options, but you’re so embarrassed that you almost feel like braving the air carrier despite the soldiers.

“Calm down,” Quaritch hastily, reaching out to place a big hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t exert much pressure, but he’s strong enough to hold you in place. “It’s the hair.”

“What?” You snap, feeling like a cornered animal.

“The hair,” He repeats, gesturing at the thatch of hair between your thighs. “Unclench, sweetheart. It’s new to her, s’all. She did the same to me.”

You really hadn’t thought too much about Na’vi pubic hair, but you suppose it makes sense that they don’t have any given their lack of body hair overall. Equally, hadn’t thought about Quaritch having pubes – maybe a holdover from his human DNA, like his eyebrows.

Varang is looking between you, head tilted. She’s assessing you, trying to figure out what the problem is. She glances down between your legs again, and this time she shifts so that she’s laying on her belly between your legs.

You’re trying to keep your legs closed, but Quaritch shifts so he’s lying behind you now. He pulls you flush against his chest, your back to his front. His arms wrap around your waist, one large hand splayed possessively over your stomach, with the other dropping to ease your legs apart so Varang can have a proper look.

Utterly exposed, all you can do is lay there and try not to melt in embarrassment.

Between your legs, Varang lets out a low, churring rumble. When her nostrils flare and you realise that she’s scenting you, your embarrassment reaches its peak and you simply can’t take anymore.

“Why am I the only one naked?” You practically shriek, wriggling. Then you screw up your bravery and make a stab at using the meagre Na’vi you have. “Clothes off!”

Varang stills, and for a moment you think you’ve made a mistake. This is a woman comfortable in her own authority, who is used to getting things her way. What if she takes badly to you attempting to order her around in her own home?

But then her smile blooms into a sharp, delighted smile. It’s broad enough to crinkle her eyes but with an edge to it, as though you’d offered her a cache of weapons all over again.

“Little Sky Girl speaks Na’vi?” She purrs, leaning down.

She licks a line from your sternum up your throat, and you jolt a little in surprise.

“A little,” You say shakily. “I’ve been learning.”

Without your panties, the wetness between your legs feels completely obscene. Your thighs feel sticky in a way that you really don’t want to examine considering you’ve barely been touched.

“Full of surprises,” Quaritch chuckles. He’s looming behind you, watching you with Varang as if you’re his favourite TV show.

You don’t reply, because your attention is captured by Varang now. She’s reached behind herself, beginning to untie the thin length of animal hide binding her breasts. Every move is a provocation, fluid and intentional – she tosses the binding aside, revealing her small, proud breasts. She starts on her loincloth next. Though you can practically feel the impatience radiating from her, she doesn’t rush.

She maintains eye contact with you as she tosses the loincloth aside next, and your cheeks burn.

You glance down, unable to help yourself, and your eyes stick. 

Jesus.

You’ve never seen a Na’vi pussy before, and you’re a little struck by the sight. It’s both alien and familiar in a way that jars you. The anatomy is similar to yours, except for the fact that it’s… well, blue.

She has a perfect seam of blue, neat and glistening with arousal. Her folds are a few shades darker than the rest of her skin, and to your fascination, the inside of her winks purple, not pink. Her clit peeks out from beneath its hood, glinting almost pearlescent in the dim firelight of the tent.

You feel a little dizzy. You’re naked in Varang’s tent. Varang is sat in front of you, also naked, spreading her legs for you proudly like she wants you to look. 

You should do something. Say something.

You point uncertainly at the indents in her skin from the tightness of the binding that had bound her breasts. “Pain?”

Varang just looks at you. You get the impression that she’s assessing you, like she doesn’t quite know what to make of you. She had undoubtedly been expecting a different reaction from you after showing off her cunt.

Then, she laughs, low and pleased.

“No pain.” She says it as though she thinks you're adorable.

It’s a little condescending, but you feel your nipples tighten anyway, puckering into hardened nubs. Quaritch noticed too; you can hear him chuckle, and then he shifts so that he’s beside you.

“You’re gonna make her real happy, baby.” Quaritch says. His words come out in a low, pleased rumble that you can feel vibrating into your back. “She’s been wantin’ to play with you for a while now.”

“Wanting to–?” 

You’ve barely even gotten your sentence started before Varang decides to lay down on her back, legs spread and cunt exposed. You stare, struck dumb yet again. Fuck, that’s a sight. Her body is long and lithe, small breasts and shifting musculature under her velvety skin. The length of her legs! Have they always been that long?

She’s unself-conscious in a way that makes you sweat. Her eyes are fixed on you again, but now her impatience seems to be simmering at a low boil. 

She barks something at Quaritch, but this time she speaks too fast for you to catch it. Her tone is unmistakable; whatever she said, it was a demand.

You had never pegged Quaritch as a man who would take orders from someone who was once an enemy, but his hands scoop under your armpits and lift you before you can protest. You’re not all too sure where he’s taking you; until he lifts you right over Varang.

You squeak as you’re settled into her lap, your legs slotting right between her much larger ones until you’re settled with your pussies pressed together, slick against slick.

“Oh, now ain’t that a sight.” Quaritch purrs out.

Your breath catches, staring down at where you’re scissoring with an alien. Her powerful thighs bracket your hips and waist, her powerful muscles flexing as she grinds up in slow, rolling motions. With a commanding sort of pressure she pulls you down against her further.

She doesn’t start slow, and she’s certainly not gentle. When her clit glides over yours, aided by the slick slide of your joined arousal, you both moan.

“Jesus,” Quaritch’s voice has dropped huskier as he shifts closer to get a better view. “Look at the two of you, all juiced up. You hear that?”

And you do – as Varang uses her grip on your hips to pull you down as she humps her cunt up against yours, the room fills with the wet, squishy sounds of your aroused cores rubbing.

Every roll of her hips is hypnotic; even on her back below you, there’s not an ounce of submission in her body. She’s grinning, wild and unrestrained with her teeth glinting, as she uses her grip on your hips to set a steady, hungry pace.

There’s no teasing – it’s a straight to the point sort of pleasure that soon has you panting. With an audience that responds to you so vocally, purring and moaning every time you roll your hips of your own accord, you soon find yourself responding eagerly with no real care for how you appear.

The bead of her clit is much larger than yours, serving as a perfect little bump to rub yourself against. It serves the dual purpose of stimulating you until you’re sweating and whimpering, and also satisfying her. Her head is thrown back as she pants, eyes half-lidded as she watches you rub yourself against her. Her long-fingered hands remain on your ass; you may have the illusion of control, but there’s no mistaking who’s really calling the shots.

“Like two cats in heat,” Quaritch says. He’s watching with an amused expression that does a poor job at hiding his avid interest. 

“Ah!” Varang’s back arches as your cunts slot together just right, clits rasping over each other with a friction that has stars flashing before your eyes.

The moan that’s torn out of your mouth is long and low, a little breathless. You don’t think you’ve ever made such a slutty sound before, but you don’t have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed about it because Varang is still moving, her grip on your ass encouraging you to keep humping your pussy into hers.

You’re both so wet that the slide is easy, syrupy and sticky. Pleasure is sparking through your veins, your breath catching every time the eager beads of your clits grind together. It doesn’t take long before your hips are rolling against her with a desperate sort of speed.

It feels so good, enough so that you actually don’t have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed. Varang doesn’t seem to care that you’re grinding against her faster now; you’re both panting, sweating.

“Oh god.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel a trembling down deep in your pussy. “I’m–”

You don’t even get the words out before you cum in a convulsive wave. Your cunt clenches in a series of hard spasms, twitching against Varang’s as your clit grinds against hers.

“Fuck!” You shriek, clinging to her blindly.

She bares her teeth in a victorious grin, and doesn’t pause. You ride out your orgasm against her, whimpering as the glide gets wetter and slicker as your pussy grows juicier with release. Varang milks every last shock of sensation out of you, until the catch of your clits together grows too much. 

You shiver, wanting more and less all at once, when suddenly a big four-fingered hand is clasping over your mask.

“I want your mouth.” Varang is saying, her large fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar mechanism of the mask.

You’re very horny. That’s the only excuse you have for the way your hips keep rolling lazily, your jaw soft and dropped as you pant. Even in the face of your only source of breathable air being pulled from you, you keep humping against her pussy.

Thankfully, Quaritch still has some firing neurons left. He swoops in quickly, grabbing Varang’s hand away and placing it on your loose breast instead.

“No mouth today,” he says. “Next time, when she has air.”

Varang hisses at him, but it seems more reflexive than anything because she doesn’t appear upset. Her attention has already been captured by your breasts; softer than a Na’vi’s, with more fleshy give to them when compared to the much firmer breasts of Na’vi women. 

“Soft.” She mutters thoughtfully, her thumbs rolling over your beaded nipples with relish.

Quaritch chuckles. 

Then, suddenly, she twists up and pulls you from your perch slotted against her. You yelp, but there’s not much you can do other than go with the flow and allow her to manhandle you. She moves quickly, flipping you onto your back and settling between your thighs on her hands and knees.

“Quaritch.” She says, glancing over her shoulder. Her tone has hardly changed at all, yet it’s clear that this is a demand.

Quaritch, still laying on his side as he watches the two of you, raises a brow. He seems quite content to watch, amused and pleased by the sight of Varang on her hands and knees between your legs. Varang is seemingly always aware of the eyes that follow her, and this time is no different – her back is arched, her narrow hips swaying as her tail undulates playfully in the air.

“Tsahìk.” Quaritch purrs her title lazily, though he doesn’t come closer.

Her title pleases her, you can tell by the way her tail flicks. Still though, she frowns impatiently at him. 

“Come.” She says, a little clipped with impatience. “You will pleasure me, as I pleasure her.”

The steady, practiced amusement on Quaritch’s face breaks, only to be replaced by a genuine grin.

“Oh, will I?” He asks sardonically, though he doesn’t bother maintaining the pretence for a full minute – within fifteen seconds, he’s moving closer to slot himself up behind her.

Varang only arches more, the pert globes of her ass offered up to him like fresh fruit on a platter. She even waves it a little, tauntingly. Quaritch must be used to this sort of taunting, because he just snorts a little and delivers a quick open-handed smack to the side of her ass. It’s not particularly gentle, and the sound rings out in the yurt.

Varang gasps, jolting at the blow, before letting out a sharp laugh and grinding back against him.

You watch with widened eyes and shortened breath as Quaritch reaches down to untie his loincloth. Though he seems collected, the roughness of his movements as he shoves his pants down reveals his restlessness. You take a breath as you crane your neck, eager to see what he’s packing.

But to your bewilderment, there’s nothing but smooth space between Quaritch’s legs. Well, there’s hair, coarse and straight, like he had said. But it doesn’t border anything at all. Where you had expected a cock, there’s nothing at all.

You gape. What the fuck? He’s like a big blue Ken doll with pubes.

“Where’s your dick?” You blurt, unable to control your reaction. 

Quaritch huffs a short laugh, but his ears lower a little. Shit, is he embarrassed? Maybe it was rude to point it out, but… Varang was acting like she wanted to be fucked. Was the Colonel dickless? Jesus, was that why he’s been so angry recently?

But no, that can’t be right. You’d seen the bulge in his pants after long makeout sessions, and you’d felt him the few occasions you’d dry-humped like horny teens.

“It’s still there, smartass.” He grumbles. “Gotta work for it now, though.”

That doesn’t answer your question at all. You frown, embarrassed and confused and too horny for this. Thighs squeezing together lightly, you glance at Varang. She’s already looking at you; her ears had pricked up the moment you spoke, clearly interested by what you have to say.

“Where?” You ask clumsily, pointing at Quaritch’s smooth blue crotch.

Varang tilts her head and for a moment you think she doesn’t understand what you’re asking her. But then her eyes dart to Quaritch’s crotch and she grins, sharp and eager. 

She moves, pushing herself back up so that she can spin round and push him onto his back in the furs.

Quaritch allows himself to be pushed down. He’s rolling his eyes and huffing, but you know it’s for show because his lips are curving into a smug, self-satisfied grin. He looks as though he’s exactly where he wants to be.

“Come,” Varang demands, gesturing you closer.

This time, you don’t hesitate at all. You crawl closer until you’re at her side, both of you kneeling between Quaritch’s large, densely muscled thighs. Varang leans into your personal space, confident in the knowledge that you’re not going to be running away any time soon. Her smooth blue skin is hot to the touch against yours, and she maneuvers you closer with ease until you’re right where she wants you; tucked half under her as the two of you lean over Quaritch’s groin.

Now that you’re so close that your breath is brushing his skin, you can see that your initial impression of there being just blank space isn’t entirely correct. Under the light dusting of hair, you can see… Well, you’re not entirely sure what you’re looking at.

It’s not until Varang reaches out to touch him, parting the hair and prodding at the soft mound there, that you realise there’s a small vertical slit.

“What’s that?” You ask curiously. 

Varang says a word that you’ve never heard before, her fingers pressing on either side of the slit and tracing it playfully. She doesn’t quite touch the slit itself; rather, she plays with the slightly swollen flesh on either side.

“Is that a pussy?” You blurt, eyes wide. 

The concept of the Colonel, the scariest man you’ve ever met, with a pussy has you reeling. But just as soon as you’ve voiced the thought, Quaritch is huffing in irritation.

“Don’t be a jackass, kid.” He grunts, his voice a little gravelly. Clearly, whatever Varang is rubbing feels good.

Under her fingers, the slit seems to dilate slightly. The tip of something seems to be poking out from just inside, and when Varang leans in to lick at it, Quaritch throws his head back with a groan.

Under her attentive tongue, what appears to be Quaritch’s cock begins to extend. It doesn’t happen all at once; rather, it distends in increments. Feeling bold, you reach out to stroke your fingers along the squishy blue base of his length. He doesn't seem to have a scrotum; you wonder if it’s internal, same as his cock was.

And his cock is big. Fully proportional, long and thin (but still bigger than any human cock you’ve taken before). Those little glowing freckles are dotted along the underside, forming a pretty little trail all the way up to his purple mushroomed head.

“Shit.” Quaritch picks up his head so that he can watch you and Varang play with his cock at the same time. 

He must like whatever he’s seeing, but his pupils are so dilated that there’s nothing left of his iris but a thin ring of gold. Varang clearly notices too, because she bares her teeth in a grin before licking up the length of his cock. If Quaritch is nervous about her sharp fangs near his delicate bits, he doesn’t show it. If anything, he humps his hips up to get more of himself inside her mouth.

Rather than indulge him though, Varang just gives one teasing suckle to the swollen, purplish tip before pulling away. Quaritch huffs as though he’d been expecting that, though he doesn’t complain. He’s watching her closely, waiting for her next move.

You’re watching her closely too, taking your cues from her. When she takes a hold of your arm and pulls you like a ragdoll onto your back in the furs in front of her, you go easily. Then she settles on her elbows and knees, settling low with her ass in the air. Her tail is held high, swaying coyly in the air in a way that is unmistakably teasing.

Your attention is fixed on her pert little ass, distracted by the way she’s waving it to taunt Quaritch, so when a dextrous, hot wet tongue slides through your sticky folds, you nearly shriek.

“O-ohhh, fuck.” You sigh, spreading your legs eagerly. 

You feel like a bit of a slut with the way your every inhibition has flown out the window, but you refuse to let your mind linger on any shame. It feels too good – you can’t remember the last time someone ate you out, but it feels like a lifetime ago, and it certainly had never felt like this. Your makeout sessions with Quaritch had often ended with his big fingers stuffed down your panties to rub you until you creamed, but while it scratched the itch for a while, the wet heat of Varang’s mouth is making your eyes roll back in your damn head.

It feels like you’re boiling up inside. Your temples are sweat-slick, hair sticking to your forehead in a way that you’re certain can’t be attractive. Your cunt is so wet and sticky that every lap of Varang’s tongue against you makes a squelching sound that is truly mortifying. You don’t even know how much of the wetness is your own arousal or Varang’s saliva.

She’s sloppy about it, which you hadn’t expected. She just always seemed so put together, but she’s tonguing into your cunt like she wants to lick the flesh off your bones. You mewl and arch and wriggle, but her powerful hands keep you pinned so she can mouth at you as she likes. 

You’d almost forgotten about Quaritch until he settles himself behind Varang. He looms over her, even taller than she is, and leans over so he can get a better look at her licking your cunt.

“Slow down,” He drawls, though he sounds amused. “You’re gonna lick her raw.”

He wraps a big hand around the base of Varang’s tail and tugs lightly, playfully. She pulls back from you just so she can hiss over her shoulder at him.

“She wants it now! You deny her–”

“I am not denying her.” Quaritch rolls his eyes, exasperated. His accent is thick, causing the words to form a little clumsily in his mouth, but you find yourself grateful for it. It’s much easier for you to understand the language when it’s pronounced slow and intentional.

His yellow eyes turn to you then, and he lifts a brow. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt so excited in your life. You’ve been content with Quaritch’s lazy makeout sessions and the clandestine fingering, but that was because you hadn’t dreamed of expecting more. Laying here sandwiched between two enormous bodies that could crush you with ease has you gooey between the legs in a way you couldn’t have expected. 

You nod, breathless.

He gives you a sharp grin, and then drives into Varang in one short roll of his hips. Varang keens, high and drawn out, before it tapers into a moan. You watch her face, enraptured by the way her expression slackens in pleasure. The self-satisfaction that she’s been carrying herself melts away, replaced by raw want.

The thing that so fascinates you about her is that even like this, bent over between you and Quaritch, there’s not an ounce of submission in her. She’s so self-assured in her own desire that it makes you feel small, like you’re blessed and lucky to be allowed so close to her while she allows Quaritch to sink inside her.

But then her eyes fix back on your face, piercing even through the transparent plastic of your mask, and she lowers her mouth to your cunt again, laving over the sticky arousal that has collected in your folds.

Your eyelids flutter as you sigh, finally allowing the last of your tension to melt out of your spine. 

God, that feels good. Maybe it’s okay to just let yourself enjoy this. You’ve never had an illicit encounter like this, and the thrill adds to the airy, electric build up in your cunt. If a nine foot tall sexy alien woman wants to involve you in her sex life with your boss, who the hell are you to deny yourself? Especially when you don’t think you’ll ever experience anything this crazy again in your life.

When Quaritch starts fucking into her, the rhythm of her tongue is disrupted against you. You try not to be too disappointed but you can’t help the whine that slips out of you unbidden. You think that maybe they miss it, considering the air is filled now with the wet slap of skin against skin and Quaritch’s low grunts matched by Varang’s little gasps. 

But then both of their eyes swing around to you, and Quaritch grins. 

“Feeling neglected again, baby?” He asks, a little mocking.

You nod, mortified. Then you wonder why the hell you had nodded at all. Was he making fun of you? It all abruptly feels too overwhelming – you don’t think you’ve ever felt so vulnerable in your whole life. 

He says something, too low and quick for you to catch, and then Varang is grinning. Her head lowers between your legs once more, purring lowly, and begins licking again. Her tongue rasps over your clit and your thoughts evaporate, all higher level thinking disappearing in favour of sheer instinctive desire. 

When you spread your legs wider, breath hitching, Varang’s purring kicks up a notch. The rumbles from her mouth make your eyes roll back in your head – it’s like having a hot, wet vibrator that licks at you. You feel too hot, too overwhelmed, like your skin is several sizes too tight. 

Your eyes slide closed in an effort to block out some of the world before you get sent into sheer sensory overload, but when Varang squeals you snap them back open as if your eyelids were spring-loaded, unwilling to miss a thing. 

Quaritch has taken a grip of Varang’s tail in his hand, pulling her back to meet her every thrust as he sets a brutal pace. 

She’s letting out high, vulgar moans of pure delight. The sounds she makes are absolutely outrageous; completely lewd, wanton, and totally shameless. You don’t think you’ve ever heard sounds like that outside of a porno, but there’s not an ounce of disingenuity in her noises.

There’s no performance at all; just sheer enjoyment. The fact that she’s making those noises into your already sensitised cunt makes you feel like you’re going insane. Each little yip, purr, and moan thrums against your clit whenever she’s not suckling sloppily at it.

Your nerves spark, and your legs convulse without conscious thought. You can feel another release bubbling in your lower belly and the tips of your toes, your mind narrowing down to those points of pleasure as Varang’s rough tongue undulates against your swollen clit. 

“Oh god,” You pant, your hips twitching up into her mouth again. “I’m gonna– I think–”

Quaritch is humping into Varang like a dog in rut, low intense grunts spilling from his lips as his hips move in brutal, near frantic spasms. You think – as much as you can think right now, with your higher-order awareness beginning to slip away from you – that you would love to watch him fucking her properly, from a different angle. 

The thought takes you by surprise even as it floats through your mind. Even earlier that day, such a thought would have had you stewing in a bitter sort of envy. But everything seems softer right now, fuzzier around the edges – encapsulated in their furs, warm and buzzing like a live-wire, you can’t imagine allowing a single negative emotion to touch the sides of you.

You can feel your climax build deep in your belly like a cresting wave, and your toes curl in anticipation of it. 

You orgasm violently. When that pleasure snaps it feels like it ricochets through every nerve and synapse in your body – your legs clamp shut around Varang’s skull hard enough that if she was human, you’re sure it would have hurt. As it is, you think she actually enjoys it, because she starts to lick you harder, faster.

It’s too much almost immediately, but you can’t form the words to tell her to stop. Your hands form fists in her glossy micro braids, though you don’t remember reaching to grasp them. All you can do is cling to her, keening wordlessly as her rough textured tongue works you into a cascade of bliss that feels endless.

You’re a pathetic little puddle of sweat and spit and spasming limbs, hardly able to tell up from down. You’re vaguely aware of Varang squealing in a way that suggests her own orgasm has knocked her out of the running at the same time as that heavenly, too-much tongue pauses in its tireless licking.

“Oh, fuck,” You breathe, your eyes blinking hazily up at the hide ceiling of the yurt.

The wet slap-slap-slap of flesh against flesh is still echoing as Quaritch fucks Varang almost brutally hard. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your head and regain some feeling in your numb buzzy fingers after your orgasm as you watch the two of them.

Varang is loose-limbed and soft, the expression on her face satisfied as she rests her face against your naked belly, panting. She’s clearly already came, small tremors running through her slick thighs, but that doesn’t stop Quaritch from chasing his own end.

“Fuck,” He snarls. “Fuck, fuck–”

His movements turn sloppy, then jerky, then he stiffens with a hissed moan. Your own spent cunt clenches around nothing as you watch his face, drinking in the details as he cums; his pinched brow, slack mouth, glassy eyes. God, he looks good.

Your thoughts are slow and soupy; you wish you had had the presence of mind to watch Varang’s face while she came. You want to be filled. You want to curl up right here and never move again.

Quaritch lets out a low groan of pure male satisfaction, his broad shoulders going lax as he hunches over Varang’s back. She’s still laid out on top of you, her back arches and hips tilted towards him, but once Quaritch pulls out of her she practically collapses onto you, spent.

The weight of her body slumping onto yours forces all the air from your lungs in an exhausted ‘ooof!’, and Quaritch hastily pulls her off. She goes easily, allowing him to settle her gently on the furs next to you.

She curls around you almost immediately, her chainsaw-like purring reminding you of an overlarge sundrunk housecat. It’s almost endearing enough to forget that you thought that she was a total psychopath.

Quaritch reclines next to you. He’s still grinning, no doubt immensely satisfied. It seems like his orgasm has softened some of the tension that’s been running through him like a steel rod in his spine. When he slides down on your other side, there’s a boneless quality to him that certainly wasn’t there before.

You stare up at the ceiling, wide-eyed and a little stunned. As the feeling comes back into your fingers and toes, reality is sinking in.

Jesus Christ, you just engaged in a threesome with your rogue boss and his new alien mate. 

Varang is sleepily playing with the shell of your ear, one of her long lithe legs is draped over your hips – it’s long enough to reach over to Quaritch, her toes playfully prodding at his thigh. He grunts, grabbing at her ankle and coasting his hand the whole way up her leg before groping at her pert ass.

You’re squashed right in the middle, still a little bewildered about how you managed to get into this situation.

“Should I– go fur?” You ask in badly accented, halting Na’vi. In case it wasn’t clear what you meant, you point over to the small pile of furs that you had dragged over to the other side of the tent.

You’d been sleeping in that sad little pile for the last week, and you just assume that they’ll want you to return now that they’re satiated. You’ve tried to avoid them at night, slinking in after they’ve fallen asleep or curling up with the furs over your head, so you’re not all too sure what their night routine is.

Do they always cuddle like this after fucking? How often do they drag a third person into their furs? Or is this the first time? 

It certainly seems… adventurous to drag you into this considering they’ve only been together a week, you think a little sourly. 

But when you look up at the two of them, they’re both looking at you as though you’re speaking in tongues. 

Had you misspoken? Maybe what you said meant something completely different. You scramble for a moment, working back over your words in your head.

But then–

“Mates sleep together.” Varang says, frowning.

She seems irritated, and the sight of her painted brow pinched in a frown has you nodding swiftly. You pull back, unwilling to linger in the furs when they don’t want you there.

But before you can go anywhere, Varang’s leg tightens over your hip and an arm winds under your waist as she hisses softly. You go very, very still.

“She told you to stay.” Quaritch grunts, though he doesn’t bother to open his eyes.

“No she didn’t,” You whisper back, keeping your voice low as if that might keep Varang soothed. “She said that mates sleep together.”

Quaritch peels one eyelid open just so he can give you a look like you’re a little slow.

“What’s the difference?” He grumbles. 

He’s relaxed enough after his orgasm that he doesn’t seem to be able to work up enough energy to devote to the conversation. As a result, he doesn’t see the way you’re gaping at him blankly.

Admittedly, you’re not always the quickest, and the Na’vi language and their customs are so foreign to you that you don’t understand a lot of it. But it sounds as though Quaritch is including you in the mates statement.

Which is ridiculous, because you’re barely even a situationship to him. At least, you hadn’t thought so. Now, you’re bewildered. You lay still, compressed between their much larger bodies as they curl around you and each other in the most surreal three-way cuddle pile you’ve ever experienced. 

It takes a bit of wriggling to sit up, since neither of them seem all that interested in lifting their heavy limbs to make it easier for you. 

“Did you…” You manage to say, your voice cracking. “Did you sign me up for some kind of weird alien polyamory without asking me?”

“Hah?” Quaritch squints at you through one lazily opened eye, but you don’t wait for him to say anything further.

You smack at his arm. You’re so much smaller than him that it bounces off ineffectually, but it makes you feel a little bit better.

At least, it does before Varang lifts her head, looking between the two of you. You stiffen a little, wondering if she’s going to smack you down for daring to strike her mate the way that she had smacked that soldier outside the air carrier.

But she surprised you by smacking Quaritch instead, a little harder than you had but right over the same place.

This time Quaritch moves, his thickly muscled arms moving to wrap around your waist and Varang’s at once. He hauls you both atop of him, grumbling something about “Two damn women at once… pain in my ass”.

You wriggle, still unsettled, but Varang grins wide, settling down against the length of his body like she belongs there. She purrs, and her tail coils playfully around your upper thigh.

“Not like there were many conversations.” Quaritch mutters. “You mad about it?”

You can feel his words rumble lightly in his chest as you lay against him, and despite yourself you find yourself relaxing against him. The steady thrumming of Quaritch’s voice and Varang’s purring, their velvety skin, their encompassing warmth, has you melting reluctantly against them.

You allow yourself to think. It’s difficult to answer the question. You’re not all too sure what’s happened tonight. One moment you’d been angry with Quaritch for tossing you aside for Varang, the next you’re squashed between them in their furs and they’re talking about mates like it was a given that you were part of that arrangement.

“I… don’t know.” You say slowly. “I’m not sure I really understand.”

Quaritch just snorts. 

“Yeah, me neither.” He grunts, reaching down to scratch at the light thatch of hair above his cock. To your fascination, you see that his length has retracted back into that little internal pouch.

“She said that she was going to take my mate.” You protest, mortified even to be saying it out loud. "As in, you."

Quaritch huffs a lazy, tired laugh. He says something to Varang in her ear, too quick and quiet for you to hear. She grunts, eyelids fluttering, and mumbles something back.

Whatever she said has Quaritch rolling his eyes back to look at you with a single sardonic brow raised.

“You gotta improve the language, honey.” He mutters. “She said she’s gonna take you as a mate.”

You gape at him. Even with it being stated in plain English, your brain cycles around the words without engaging with them fully. 

“What the fuck?” You blurt.

Had they known the whole time that you were involved in this weird little ‘mating’ situation? Was that why they had been so amused with your sulking, your insistence at sleeping apart? 

What you had thought was mockery from Varang might just have been an expression of interest.

“Too much talking.” Varang mumbles in Na’vi.

She’s clearly trying to sleep, her ears twitching in irritation every time someone speaks.

You quiet down, biting your lip. It seems like you’re the only one confused by any of this. They’re certainly not wasting much time having moral quandaries or wondering what this means for your standing among them. 

A little hesitantly, you allow yourself to relax fully against them.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have first imagined this when you came to your pencil-pushing job in Pandora – squashed between two enormous alien bodies, one of them your resurrected boss, in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere filled with Na’vi that are hostile to basically everything.

But the furs are warm and comfortable, and paradoxically you feel small and safe pressed against the bulk of Quaritch and Varang. Everything outside of the tent feels distant and hazy, like the only real thing in the world is right here narrowed down to the palpable heat of your bodies in a post-coital pile.

Just maybe, you could postpone your little meltdown until tomorrow.

Quaritch must feel you surrender to the situation, your body relaxing against his, because you feel his lips curve into a smile where they’re pressed against the top of your head.

When he leans down to speak in your ear, you shiver lightly.

They’d been dreams. Harmless ones where you weren’t being chased. Just running through a forest, barefoot. Able to feel the grainy dirt in between each toe, leaving prints in your wake. Feeling the sun coat your skin like a warm blanket, seeping through your pores. Because of that, you were given vitality. You used it to duck under tall leaves and dodge deadly branches. The dreams never lasted more than a few minutes at a time, but in those fleeting moments — it was as if you’d been there for years. It was calm; peaceful. A stark contrast to what you were going through now.

Each step felt like you were sprinting across hot rocks, scorching your delicate skin into what could feel like blisters. The soles of your feet cried out into the night, prickling with a closing numbness, begging you to stop. To take just a few moments of rest. As badly as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Every part of you wanted to collapse, but adrenaline was one hell of a drug. It was almost as if your body was on autopilot because of it.

You could feel it. Your lungs were seconds away from caving in, if the exhaustion didn’t catch up to you first. 

As much as you wanted to stop, and just give in to the danger lurking at your heels — you just couldn’t. It was a natural human instinct to want to live in a life or death situation. When it came down to it, it was fight or flight and you chose the only option someone like you could. You were on a foreign planet along with its foreign and predatory animals that seemed to like the idea of a delicate, unprotected human running amuck in its forest. What other option did you have?

“Fuck,” you pushed through a thicket of wide leaves, feeling a thorn scrap across your arm. It should’ve stung, but the pain didn’t have time to register. You put more of your focus on dodging a low hanging tree branch, centimeters from it taking off your head. You gave a quick appalling glance back at it, eyes wide in an incredulous expression, “Holy shit.”

Your feet pounded heavily across the forest floor causing mud to slash up your leg like misguided paint. It felt sticky and cool, oddly comforting in a sense that with enough of it to cover the rest of your body, you’d have the perfect camouflage. Truthfully, if you weren’t currently running for your life, you would’ve stopped and soaped yourself head to toe in it but instead, you dealt with the odds and kept running. It was all you could do to stay ahead of the ravenous beast behind you.

Your breath was shallow and noisy. You couldn’t push back the gasps that kept climbing up from your throat as if they were trying to claw their way out. You’d run plenty of times before, but it was nothing like this. This…was fear running. It was different because if you stopped, even faltering for just a split second, you were gone. You were no fool. You knew it was either run or be eaten alive. Or just mauled to death. You chose to run. Go figure.

The growls behind you acted as another warning. It was closer than you thought, and it wasn’t going to stop until it had your blood across the mossy ground, body torn to pieces. 

What a terrible way to go out, you thought. 

The closing distance between you and the snarling beast made your heart almost leap from your chest. This wasn’t where you died. There was still too much you had to achieve. You couldn’t die here. Not like this, anyway. You thought that growing old and dying from a normal natural cause was a good way to go, but being mauled by some terrifying animal that seemed to have a vendetta against you? It wasn’t exactly one of your first picks; you couldn’t let that happen. Not when you weren’t ready to go just yet. 

A hoot not too far behind you caused a paralyzing spark of electricity to shoot up your spine. Was there something else out there after you too? Had it joined the vengeful animal in the chase as well? You’d always had shitty luck, but nothing as shitty as this. You couldn’t help but wonder what you’d done in your past life to deserve any of this. What terrible, awful crime had you committed in that life to find yourself begging and groveling for the chance to live in this one?

Your thoughts scattered the moment your foot caught onto the uproot of a tree, falling face first into the spongey, mud covered ground. 

“Shit,” You didn’t care that you probably looked crazed with fear-stricken eyes and mud all over your face. You were too busy being terrified. 

You could feel your blood run cold. The only thing on your mind was getting back up and pushing onward, but your body was frozen. It was as if a large weight was holding you down. You couldn’t move, inwardly panicking at the realization that this was probably it. That this was the moment you died and as shameful of a death as it was going to be, you could only hope that it was a quick one.

With a swipe of your hand, you were able to get some of the mud off of your face to see and was about to make a move, but there was no time to will your body to stand back up as the beast that had been hot on your trail came bursting out of the trees, teeth bared. You closed your eyes, choosing to not look death in the face, but wait for it to finally close in on you. This was it. This was the moment. You were never really much of a spiritual person, but you wanted to say a little prayer before you met your maker. Looked like there was no time for that either so you waited…and waited…

Except…death never came.

You heard a loud thud come from towards your left and when you opened your eyes, your mouth fell open. The animal that had been hunting you was laid out on its side with a massive arrow shot through its belly. It’d been hit…but by what?

It didn’t take long for your eyes to settle on a tall figure that stood close to it, looking down at the lifeless beast before him. A man — of some sorts. Looked like a man, but was too tall to be any human man you’d ever seen. 

However, he wasn’t human. He was a na’vi.

You watched as he knelt down by the animal, seeming to be muttering something in a language that you couldn’t understand but sounded awfully familiar.

“Oeru txoa livu, ma oeyä tsumkan. Hu nawma sa’nok tivul ngeyä tirea.”

He spoke a few more words under his breath, and carefully pulled the arrow out. After you dusted your hands off on your ruined jeans, you stepped closer to him as he stood up, finding the need to tilt your head back until you felt a strain at your nape. He was taller than he looked from far away, but it didn’t frighten you. In fact, you were ever the more intrigued.

“Thank you,” your voice being so soft, it was almost swallowed by the loud whistle in the wind. 

He didn’t speak nor did he even acknowledge you as he fitted the bow string over his body, cleaning off his knife. It was almost like he hadn’t heard you from the way he stared ahead of him before he walked forward. When he passed you, his arm went right through your body. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. Confused, you looked down at yourself. Had he just…?

Your eyes bored into his back as his figure got further away.

“What the…”

Then, you heard the same hooting from earlier, but the callings that came next were unfamiliar. A group of na’vi men came trampling through riding what looked to be horses, but not quite. Somehow, you’d seen them before, but where? Eyes wide, you stepped back and out of their way, almost losing your footing over a thorn bush.

Taking a moment to mentally curse at your lack of coordination, you watched as they circled the dead animal for a moment, hooting, before they dismounted their horses and began to tie the animal up. You blinked. Had none of them seen you? Were you…suddenly invisible somehow?

You shook your head. It didn’t make sense at all. The beast had been chasing you so it was natural for everything else to see you. Right?

Your head turned back to the direction the man from earlier had left towards before you decided to follow him. You thought that he had saved your life, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Maybe you hadn’t been its target or maybe it hadn’t been chasing you at all. None of it sounded very sensible to you, but what did you know? You saw how he had passed through your shoulder as if you weren’t there. That part was real. 

Or you were just losing your mind. That was also a possibility.

You took one short glance back at the group that were getting ready to mount their animals again, and made your way deeper into the forest.

Between falling prey to a few muddy puddles and stumbling over tree roots, you managed to catch up to him. It seemed that he hadn’t gone far. He had stopped, and was–

A gasp slipped past your lips as you fumbled to quickly hide behind a nearby tree. You peeped your head from around it, and saw that the man had his bow raised at someone. Who was it? Another animal? 

“Who are you?” He demanded in his language. 

“My name is Jane. Please…Don’t. I mean no harm.”

Jane? That didn’t sound like a na'vi name, but she was speaking the language. 

You tried to get a better look by taking coverage behind another tree that was a bit closer, and couldn’t believe what you saw.

It was no animal. 

It was a woman. 

A human woman. 

Perhaps you were seeing things, but she almost resembled you. Same hair color, same color of eyes and she looked to be a scientist. One of the RDA? Her lab coat gave it away, but what was one doing out in the forest this late at night? Hell, what were you doing out in the forest at this time of the night? Did you sleep walk? You were never much of a sleepwalker, as far as you knew, and surely Neteyam would’ve noticed and brought you back since he seemed to follow you everywhere else. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard something hard hit a tree not too far away. You looked around, and spotted an arrow wedged deep into the bark of a tree right behind the woman. Your lips parted. He’d shot at her….but missed? Earlier, he had done well with killing the beast that you thought was after you. From what you saw, he didn’t lack in the area of bow expertise so why did he shoot and miss her on purpose?

“This is a warning, human. Leave this territory or I will kill you where you stand,” his eyes hardened under the bright moonlight, already pulling back his second arrow, “The next one won’t miss. That, I promise.”

Jane pleaded again, taking a cautious step forward, “Please, I beg of you,” Her voice trembled, and your eyes followed down to the hand that she had pressed against her side. That was when you’d noticed a dark red spot at the edges of her coat. She was injured. “I need help.”

The man stood tall and unyielding, holding his breath. He studied her weakened stance, the scared look in her eyes and how she was covering her side. He could smell it. The blood. He knew that she was injured, but still. It wasn’t his place. 

“My apologies, but I cannot help you. You must leave back to where you came from. Now.”

He kept his bow raised, prepared for any deceit or anymore of her advances towards him. Jane dropped her head with a silent sob, breath labored. Slowly, she shook her head, “You do not seem to understand,” voice trembling, she raised her head back up to look at him, tears brimming her eyes, “I cannot go back. Those people…my people…they want me dead.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Dead? Why is this? They are your people, are they not? I do not believe that they would try to kill one of their own–” He saw the way she began to sway until her hand dropped from her wound. Then, she fell forward, seconds away from falling face first to the ground. He mentally cursed and jetted forward to catch her. She’d fainted from the blood loss. Her body was limp in his arms, and terrifyingly cold. He turned her over to let her face become illuminated by the moonlight, and saw that she’d gone considerably pale. He leaned down to her chest, and hovered a pointed ear over it. Her heartbeat was faint too. That wasn’t good.

He hissed in frustration. There was no other option. He couldn’t leave her to die, and if what she said was to be believed — then she was no threat to him or his people. He knew that there would be an uproar, but he had no choice. He had to take her back to the village, to the tsahik to be treated. To hopefully save her life. It was more than her people ever offered to his people, but he knew that he couldn’t fight fire with fire. Someone had to be the peacemaker and as their future olo’eyktan, he chose peace over more war. That was what a great leader would do.

You observed the way he carefully placed her onto his back and held her legs with his arms. Once he started to make his way through the forest again, you took a step into the light but didn’t look where you were crossing. You stepped on a weakened tree limb, hearing it crack under your foot, and noticed the way he stopped. As a response, so did you but remembered that he didn’t seem to see you earlier. Even so, you stayed where you were, heart beating wildly in your chest. 

With concentrated brows, he began to creep closer to where you were and when he caught your figure, he stopped, eyes shot wide. 

“Who are you?”

He was looking dead at you now, drawing you breathless. He could see you? Why now? And was speaking english all of the sudden. If he knew the language, why was he only speaking in na’vi with that woman? 

Unable to believe it, you looked behind you but saw no one else. There was no one else around but you and him. 

Scared, you walked backwards, but he was taller and faster. He caught up to you, and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, lifting you off of the ground as if you weighed nothing to him wearing a terrifying angry look on his face.

“I asked you a question, human. Who are you and where did you come from?”

“I– I…” your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, staring at him in fear and confusion, “I don’t–”

He let you go with a blank expression, watching as you quickly caught yourself instead of falling flat on your rear, “I see. I understand. Then it is evident that you do not belong here,” he said, before he pushed a finger into your chest, “Go. Go back,” he growled, “Go back and do not return. You do not belong in this time, so you must go.”

Your face frowned up. Time? What was he talking about? What did he mean? 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly know how I got here in the first place and I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how to get ba–”

“Then you must find your own way ma…dau…er…”

His voice began to fade away. That was when you felt a hard push against your chest, and felt your body flying back. You were expecting to meet the hard, forest ground but instead…you kept falling and falling…

Everything around was pitch black, filled with only the sound of your screaming. You tried to catch onto something, anything, but nothing was around you. It was so dark…

You couldn’t think about anything but death until you felt the darkness completely consume you, showering you in its midst.

— ꕥ —

Animal calls and feather-like chirping greeted you when you awoke.

The smell of the dewy air made your nose crinkle, then an earthy breeze trailed through. 

“Ah..”

You couldn’t help but groan at the soreness of sleeping in one position all night long, not typically on your side but then again, you never usually slept so heavily. On usual nights, you slept on your stomach, but now…

The numbness was evident, sending a hiss through you as you moved to lay on your back. You breathed a sigh of relief as the tingles and buzz in your arm began to fade away. You were still spinning with the effects of sleepiness, and hardly felt like moving. All you could do was turn your head, relieved that you didn’t have any tension in your neck from how dreadful you slept. 

That was when you saw him.

Neteyam slept soundlessly, positioned on his back as well with his head turned, facing you. All you could hear was his low breathing, but other than that, he was quiet. Hadn’t moved an inch in response to your rustling. He looked…peaceful. It was a lot different from the usual deep scowl on his face whenever he looked at you. 

With a small groan, you sat up and steadied yourself at the feel of a rising headache. You took a moment without moving to let it settle until it finally subsided. Now that you could tell that you weren’t in the forest anymore, you knew that it was just a dream and what a peculiar dream it was. Some parts were blurry, but you remembered the female scientist and the na’vi. He was going to kill her, but didn’t. You figured that he couldn’t kill an injured woman so he must’ve had plans to take her back to his village in search of help from his tsahik. It reminded you of what happened between you and Neteyam yesterday. He didn’t seem to want to kill you considering he saved your life, but at the time, he’d been weary of you. 

Your eyes roamed over his unconscious figure, taking in the things that you weren’t given enough time to when you two first met. It wasn’t like you didn’t notice it at first, but looking at him now… 

The tips of your fingers stung with the desire to trace the patterns along the side of his face. They looked like tattoos, almost similar to ones you’d seen the metkayina adorn. You thought back to what little history you knew of the sully family, and remembered a piece of information Norm had mentioned once before. The second Great War included the reef people so that meant that Jake and his family were all still with the metkayina at the time. It also meant that they spent a great deal of time with them for Neteyam to gain a tattoo, which was only earned by completing his iknimaya. 

It seemed to be his only tattoo, as far as you were able to see but it made him look mature. Wise beyond his years. 

He was also quite tall. Well, all of his people were, but the difference between you and him — it was quite comical. His hand rested palm down near your thigh, and looked like if he were to grab you, he’d cover your entire leg. You felt like a house mouse next to a great big lion. One move, and he would be on you with sharp claws and ravaging eyes, ready to swallow you whole. It should’ve scared you, but it was a bit…fascinating.

You slid your hand from your lap, and placed it near his, head tilted at the contrast of sizes. Your fingers dwarfed in comparison to his long, blue fingers, almost making you crack a smile. Then it dropped when you remembered how the man in your dreams frightened you. No other reason than the fact that at first, he didn’t see you but towards the end, he did. There was also something that he had said before he pushed you, but you couldn’t recall it. The dream was a strange one. You still didn’t understand why you had it, but you were starting to believe that it was because of what transpired yesterday. Though, being chased through the woods by some giant beast seemed a little irrelevant, Neteyam had saved you from a pack of nantang. Was that meant to symbolize that particular moment? If so, why?

Tired of thinking so much, you went to remove your hand when you felt a larger one wrap around your wrist. You gasped but didn’t have time to think, feeling an arm snake around your midsection. When you blinked next, you found yourself laying on top of Neteyam who was now wide awake.

It didn’t cross your mind that you’d fallen asleep in your little corner and woke up next to him instead. You were too busy thinking about other things that were more important, but now that your mind was becoming clear — you could remember more. How his body heat felt against your cold body, hovering over you, staring you down in a way that made the vertex of your thighs tingle and burn. How his hands felt on your skin, touching you, nose in your neck, growling about you being his. 

You tried to shake the memory away, but it was no use. It kept replaying, over and over, making your skin burn. 

Not now, you begged, please, not now.

He could feel you under his fingertips, watching the emotions cross your face. 

“Cannot stay away from me, can you?” He teased, fingers feathering across your lower back, edging at the hem of your shirt. 

How he had let you fall from the tree yesterday… He didn’t even try to catch you at the last minute. He just…watched. He showed no remorse when he joined you and Kanu back on the ground, and it made your stomach twist. 

You couldn’t help but wonder that if Kanu hadn’t been standing there, what would’ve happened. 

You would’ve been dead. That’s what would’ve happened.

The thought irked you, made you frown, wanting to be anywhere but near Neteyam right now. You tried to push off of him to put some space between you two, but he held you down, unfairly using his strength against you.

“Let go,” you demanded of him, and he snorted.

“Kehe.”

Uselessly, you kept trying to wiggle out of his hold but he held you firm to him, forcing you to release a frustrated sigh, “Neteyam, I swear to god. If you don’t let me go right now, I’ll–”

Clearly annoyed, his face twisted up.

“Sästrätx,” he mumbled, feeling put off now, “Trust me, tawtute,” he then roughly pushed you off of him, and made a move to stand up, “I do not care for you either, but it seems we will have to deal with each other for some time.”

“What?” You asked, sitting up and watching him walk over to the discarded armor he’d taken off before bed last night. “What do you mean?”

“Grandmother,” he threw over his shoulder without a glance your way, sliding on the arm guard, “She does not think it wise for you to walk long distances for now. So,” he finished putting the rest of his protective wear on with a low sigh, “–you will stay here. I will watch over you.” He turned around and was faced with a hard frown on your face. He smirked, “Do not think I want this for me either,” he dipped his head down to fix a bracelet on his wrist, “I want to rid you from this village as soon as possible. Believe me. So get better,” once he was done, he started towards the entryway, eyes forward, “Then, you can leave for good,” before he jumped down from the edge of the treehouse, landing on the ground without a single sound nor grunt.

Neteyam knew that he couldn’t be separated from you for too long or the bond would start to pull at you and him, but he just needed space. He was grateful to get away from you. Your scent… He could feel the tugging at the pit of his stomach, and knew when he held you in his arms, it would’ve been hard to hold himself back from doing something stupid. Something he would only end up regretting. You had felt warm in his hold, soft. His fingers itched to touch more of you, to feel you. 

The room was getting suffocating. He’d woken up long before you, but kept still when he felt you stir. He’d laid there, and waited. He didn’t know why. He just pretended that he was still asleep, and listened. He could hear the way you breathed, the rustling of you moving around just mere centimeters from him, and how warm your skin felt right next to his. The palms of his hands tingled to touch you, to wrap his fingers around some part of you. He tried to fight it off in hopes that you’d get out of bed so he could think straight.

But you didn’t, and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He pulled you on top of him and tried to play off the awkwardness that came from the uncharacteristic move by teasing you, but it was still there. Palpable, and floating around the two of you like fresh fallen leaves from an ever changing tree. He tried to ignore it, but it filled his senses, relentlessly gnawing at the inner parts of his brain that wanted him to give in. To give up trying to ignore what was so obviously there, and officially make you his mate. He was so close, you were so close…

He didn’t plan on touching you at all, but every time you got near him…

He clenched his teeth, a tick in his jaw. You were nothing but a nuisance. A means to distract him from his training and his duties. A human that did not belong in his world no matter which way he chose to look at it. Not that he wanted you to fit in, no. You needed to go back home or wherever it was you came from. Immediately. 

And once you were gone, things would finally go back to normal. 

Yes. He would see to it. 

The moment that you were left with your thoughts, you began to recall the conversation with Mo’at last night. She had specifically told you that there were to be no long travels for you for quite some time. Your injuries were in no shape to be moving around for long periods of time. It was exactly what you feared would happen and you almost wanted to go against her advice and travel anyway, but knew that suffering an even worse injury due to not listening would only suck even more. So, you began to mentally prepare yourself to be around Neteyam longer than you had expected.

Once you were dressed, grateful that they were finally dry, you decided it was time to head out.

It was a feat, but you’d managed to climb down a few hanging vines from the treehouse, landing softly on the ground. You had a thought that Neteyam planned on leaving you up there with no way to get back down, but you weren’t having it. He wasn’t the boss of you, and you weren’t going to let him think he had that kind of authority over you just because you were human so you took matters into your own hands. It was dangerous, but it wasn’t like you planned on going back up anyway.

On your way back to the village, you came across Kiri and spent most of the morning with her, indulging in various different conversations that all seemed to venture right back to your current object of annoyance.

“He’s a pretentious, pompous asshole is what he is and I’m already sick of him.”

Kiri giggled next to you as she finished washing Tuk’s hair. Remembering that the young girl was still there, you shot Tuk an apologetic smile for your crass manner of speaking, but thankfully, she didn’t quite understand what you were talking about since she was still learning your language and wasn’t as fluent as Kiri was. 

“Oh, you know him,” Kiri wrung the rest of the water from her sister’s hair and patted the girl’s shoulder to let her know that she was done, “My brother has never been good with…people,” her eyebrows wrinkled in thought, “He’s better with inanimate objects that can’t talk back to him. Much like his bow, actually.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. I can tell. He sucks at talking to humans.”

“Well you’re the first human that he has willingly talked to,” Kiri commented as she stood up. You followed after her, dusting the possible dirt from your backside, “He never cared for Spider…” her eyes lowered, “I don’t think there’s ever been a human he’s at least tried to tolerate.” She sighed, shaking her head and looking back at you with a smile that you could tell was a bit forced, “But he seems to tolerate you. I think that counts for something, don’t you?”

Willingly wasn’t exactly the word for it.

You folded your arms, distracting yourself by looking up at the swaying trees in the wind. It was a cool day, full of sun, warmth and clear skies. Usually, you’d be not too far from your outpost, journaling by a nearby cliff that could see down into a large waterfall. You always spent your morning’s journaling, but due to…current circumstances, you had no motivation to write. Well, if you were going to expand on how much you disliked Neteyam then…

It was useless. You just needed to stay away from him. That was the goal until you were deemed well enough to travel and go back to your regular life. If he was going to treat you like shit, then what reason did you have to want to even be around him? 

“Meet you back at home?” Kiri sent Tuk a little smile. The young girl nodded, waved at you, and took off back into the direction of the village. Kiri released a breath, “You know, Neteyam aside, I think you and Kanu…”

Her drag of his name made you lift a brow, feeling some implication behind it. You decided to feign ignorance to what she was trying to say. 

“Yeah?”

She shrugged her shoulders, and bit into her lip to keep from smiling, “I mean…I think he might have a little crush on you, which wouldn’t really be out of the ordinary. He tends to flirt a lot, but I don’t know. Seems…different around you. A little more excited, maybe?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, absentmindedly rolling your eyes, “Yeah, and me and Seynä are the best of friends,” you said with a condescending smile and Kiri laughed, “He doesn’t have a crush on me. Least I don’t think so. He seems friendly.”

Kiri full on smiled now before knocking her shoulder into yours, “Oh yeah. Very friendly.”

“Yep, I’m leaving.”

As you walked onward to the village, Kiri followed behind you directing the conversation elsewhere while you fell back into thought. It was nice having a friend or two during your stay in the village. It made the process easier, and sometimes made you disregard the hole drilling stares from the villagers every time you came walking through. Kiri, Kanu, Tuk and Jake were great. They made you feel welcomed, and comfortable. Neytiri and Seynä were the two women that you were still trying to figure out. As of now, you could understand their weariness. Neteyam was Neytiri’s son. She didn’t seem too fond of the idea of you sticking around, and always being around her son made it worse. Seynä seemed to feel the same way. You’d just met and she already had a personal vendetta against you. 

Maybe you were the problem.

Then again, you weren’t guilty of anything. There was absolutely nothing going on between you and Neteyam, but you figured that some of those around you were having a hard time believing that with the way he constantly stuck to your side. Hopefully last night’s sleeping arrangements was just a one time thing. You didn’t know how you could stand another night of sleeping so close to Neteyam. He was so…infuriating, but so attractive at the same time. How could someone with such a shit personality have such a pretty face?

“So what’s the deal with you and Seynä?” Kiri asked while she balanced walking on top of a mossy tree branch, hands behind her back, “She only arrived just yesterday and you guys already have this kind of…” she pursed her lips, trying to think of the word, “…rivalry going on.” She smiled to herself, “I mean, if this is over Neteyam then I’m sure she knows she has no competition. At least not with you…right?”

“Right,” you agreed, not fully understanding what Seynä’s deal with you was either. “I would like to be friends. I don’t like having an issue with anyone. Makes things awkward,” you shook your head and shrugged, eyes on the ground now, “Maybe I should pull her and ask?” You gave Kiri a look that was a mixture of hesitancy and hopefulness. She hummed.

“Maybe? I don’t know her just yet but because she doesn’t seem like a raging bitch, I think you might have a chance at getting through to her.”

Both of you laughed at that as you walked on.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

One conversation wouldn’t kill you, right?

— ꕥ —

Neteyam had been standing in front of his grandmother’s hut for at least five minutes now. 

He wasn’t nervous about what was to come from a conversation with her about the bond between you and him. He was more so dreading telling her about it. Would she help him if she knew? He hadn’t even told you about it. You deserved to know. Especially since he had to make sure he stuck close by you at all times or the effects of the stretch would become unbearable. He couldn’t expect you to find it normal and not a nuisance to always find him lingering near you. You were bound to ask him what his deal was so maybe the sooner the better.

However, right now, he needed to talk to the only person he felt would understand him without judgment. In truth, he’d done nothing wrong. You weren’t his mate by choice. You were thrown onto him, and haphazardly, he might add. He didn’t choose you, so what was he so nervous about? His grandmother would understand. She always did. She would see reason, and eagerly try to help him. There was a way out of this and if anyone could find it, it was her.

That unknowing feeling rolled off of his shoulders the moment he lifted up the flap of the hut to step inside. The first thing to hit him was the usual aroma of medicinal supplies and the smell of burning wood as he took a look around. She wasn’t there, which was odd. He was told by his mother that she’d last seen his grandmother come back to her hut, but he couldn't help but feel that he’d just missed her.

His face fell. He was looking forward to getting some answers, but he supposed that  it would have to be another time. 

He grimaced. 

The thought of having to explain to you what’s been happening made his throat run dry. You would freak out, no doubt, and then everyone would soon come to know. His mother and Seynä were the two people he did not want knowing about all of this. They’ve proved to be a slight headache as it was. His mother would lose it, and Seynä finding out he was already mated would cause a rift between the two clans. His parents were sure to tell her parents that he was unmated so naturally, that was what they were expecting. To match their unmated daughter with Toruk Makto’s unmated son. He sighed to himself. His mother would have his head on a stick or worse, yours. That was a nest he didn’t want to go poking around at. 

With a sigh, he turned on his heel and began making his way back out of the hut when he saw the flap suddenly flip up. Startled, he stumbled back and saw his grandmother and mother come in. His lips pressed into a thin line, meeting Neytiri’s gaze. He prayed to Eywa that he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

“My son,” she sat the basket that was on her hip down off to the side before she placed a hand to his cheek that ended up moving down to his shoulder, “You are well? I didn’t see you at the morning wash, is everything alright?”

Ah. He forgot to thank you for being the reason he missed the morning wash down by the local river earlier. As he got older, he started to prefer taking his baths off on his own instead of with his family and the rest of the people. Kiri and Tuk usually forced his attendance but today, he slept in. If it wasn’t because of your strange warmth and soft skin, he would’ve woken up like he usually would. Bright and early to spend time on his own. You were becoming a thorn in his side, but this time, he could only thank you for getting him out of that dreadful obligation.

Neteyam nodded, breathing in, “Yes, mother. I’m fine. Just slept in is all.”

“Ah,” a smile formed, and she nodded, “Yes, well. Yesterday was quite a hectic day. Your father, too, slept in later than usual.” Then the light in her eyes dimmed, dropping her hand from his shoulder, “But I was not told that the human would be sleeping with you last night. Why did I find this out from someone else other than you?”

Even though he was older now, he never felt more like a kid than when his mother would scold him about something. He loved her, and would do anything for her but sometimes… Sometimes she could get overbearing. Still, he could understand. Not only was he her first born son, but her only son left around. Lo’ak left because of his love for a human and for Neteyam to suddenly come back with one, and let you sleep with him? He knew what that looked like to her.

History repeating itself.

He swallowed. He wasn’t…nervous. At least, he didn’t think so. He didn’t do anything…per say. Maybe some questionable things that could be taken the wrong way if someone had caught you two last night (and this morning, if he wanted to be technical), but still. There was nothing going on between you and him. He didn’t like you, wasn’t attracted to you and was actually trying to fix things so that he could get rid of you for good. Some part of him was glad that you got injured because that gave him extra time to figure this mating mess out. If you were able to leave right now, he would have to try and stop you and then suffer at you wanting to know why. Then, the entire village would know that he was mated to a human.

Just like his brother.

Neteyam inwardly sighed. He wasn’t expecting his mother to be with his grandmother so now he had to change tactics. There was no way he could leave without speaking to her about his predicament.

“Teyam–”

“I need to speak to grandmother about something,” he cut in, skipping over her question. He didn’t feel like answering, and truthfully, it was none of her business. He didn’t care about you as much as she was probably thinking. Plus, even though she wasn’t aware, he was trying to get rid of you. He didn’t bring you to the village because he wanted to. Because he was infatuated and wanted to mate with you. To be doomed to repeat his younger brother’s biggest mistake, no. You were a situation that needed fixing, if his mother would let him.

Neytiri was taken aback. She loved all of her children, but she always held Neteyam to a higher standard because he was respectful, and took care of his younger siblings. He went out of his way to make sure everyone was taken care of, and safe. He never gave her a reason to be disappointed in him. Now, he was showing signs. It wasn’t necessarily rebellion, but it wasn’t something that she was used to either. He would never dodge her questions. Would always answer, and with honesty. 

She took in a breath, and held it. It had to be because of you. Another human here to take her last son away. Was Eywa punishing her for something? Had she not suffered enough over the years? She’d lost her little sister, then her father shortly afterwards —hadn’t she been through enough to last her an entire lifetime? 

“My son,” She stepped forward and took his face in her hands again. She had to stretch a bit because he was taller than her, but she managed to get his attention, “This human… Is she that important to you?”

“Important to me?” Neteyam frowned, “No, no she isn’t. Quite the opposite. Why would you think that?”

“Because,” he could see the conflict across her face, “You seem…protective over her. I only worry because–well. You know.”

He knew where this was headed, but he had to admit. Her reaction to finding out you slept with him last night wasn’t what he had expected. He thought that she was going to lose her mind. Go on a rampage, yell at him and demand that he toss you back out into the forest. Her reaction shocked him, but he could tell that she was taking a different approach. 

He couldn’t decide which was worse: her being overly nice or being extremely violent.

He would just have to find out.

Neteyam drew tension into his shoulders, eyes hardened, “I am nothing like Lo’ak.”

Neytiri stared at him for a long, quiet moment before she dropped her hands from his face and stepped back. She sighed, a wash of relief waving over.

“Good. I should hope not,” her tone was flat, face schooled into a stern expression, “You are the son I have always been most proud of. I was worried, but now I’m not. How long will she stay?”

Neteyam could’ve dropped his shoulders at the fact that he had successfully convinced her of his resolve, not that his resolve had been rattled (no, not in the slightest), but he had to keep going.

“I don’t know,” for the first time since the two came in, his eyes glanced at his grandmother who was busy stirring something at her work station, “Grandmother said whenever she is well enough to travel.”

“And her sleeping arrangements until then?” She inquired with a raised brow.

Fuck. He hadn’t thought of an excuse for that yet. 

He was slightly panicking on the inside, but kept himself looking as neutral as possible on the outside.

He shrugged, “I was thinking that she could possibly sleep here. With grandmother.”

Neytiri hummed and walked back over to the entrance, picking up her basket, “Fine,” she looked at her mother, “Hopefully she is to leave soon so that our lives can go back to normal,” and then turned on her heel, out of the hut.

Finally, Neteyam breathed. His palms were sweaty, realizing just how nervous he had been just now. He knew how scary she could be, but it had never been directed towards him before. At least, not in the way Lo’ak always got it. 

The weak answers he gave her would only pacify her for so long, he knew that. He needed to get prepared for a more…long term solution. If he wasn’t able to get out of being your mate, then he had to come up with something. Had to figure out a way to keep you close but far away enough to appease his mother, and to prevent raising any more suspicions between you and him. Then again, there was no way you were going to be allowed to stay in the village permanently. Even if you were, what would be a good cause? There was also a better chance that you wouldn’t even want to stay in the village. That’d add to his list of problems, that was for sure.

He sighed. One thing at a time, he supposed.

Relieved that he’d managed to skate by for now, he walked over to his grandmother, trying to remember how he was going to approach the mating topic.

“Grandmother, I–”

“Do you know what it is like to be tsahik, grandson?”

Puzzled, he stood next to her. 

Allowing a few minutes to pass, he sucked in a breath,

“No. I do not.”

She hummed, eyes focused on the task in front of her. He noticed a hint of a smile on her lips, and leaned against the table to listen.

“I am not just a spiritual leader or someone that leads important ceremonies when need be. I sometimes heal the wounded or help the women in the village with weaving or guiding the children on their respective paths,” she grabbed a few pieces of herbal plants in her hands, and crushed them before mixing them into the small bowl of mixture in front of her, “To be tsahik…you are more than just an interpreter of Eywa’s will.” Finally, she looked at him and saw a gleam of warmth in her eyes. “You are connected to all things, all life. It is a blessing just as it is a curse at times,” she dropped her gaze back down to the bowl, but stopped mixing, “Neteyam. I know.”

He blinked, staring at her. She was being vague. “You…you know?” Was she aware of the bond or was she speaking of something else? “About the–”

“Bond?” Her eyes returned to his, watching them dilate, “Yes. I know that the human has been chosen as your mate. Your true mate.”

When he swallowed, it felt like he was pushing a thick rock down his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He looked down at the table, lost for words.

True mate.

He knew the chances of him being wrong were slim to none but there had still been a chance, nonetheless. He’d been foolish to think otherwise, he knew his body. He knew when something felt different, and it was like that around you. It wasn’t like how he felt around anyone else, especially Seynä… Around you, he felt…less in control. He felt drawn to you, always wanting to touch you, to feel you in some sort of way and protect you, provide for you. All of the things a mate was supposed to feel about their mate and it wouldn’t have been a problem if it weren’t for the fact that you were human. He couldn’t see past it. You would need so much protection, so much guidance to learn the ways of his people and how to live amongst them. How to…

“Grandmother!” he suddenly called out, causing her to jump a little. She hissed and batted at his arm, frowning up.

“Do not scare me like that. What is it?”

His ears flicked wayward for a moment before they stood right back up, “Since you know that she is my mate, then you must know how she is able to breathe our air without one of those ridiculous masks that humans have to wear.”

There was an expression on her face that he couldn’t decipher, but he recognized what it could’ve meant. She knew the answer to his question, but he had a feeling she wasn’t intent on not answering it. At least, not in the way he would need her to. 

She darted her eyes back down to what she was previously doing, lips fixed into a hard line, “I do, but it is not my place to say,” Neteyam opened his mouth to inquire what she meant, but was interrupted, “Grandson, you do not accept her as your mate. Why is that?”

He blinked. Wasn't it…obvious? You were human. You weren’t a na’vi. He couldn’t even properly mate with you as he could with one of his own kind. No tsaheylu, no marking. He wasn’t even entirely sure you could even handle a marking bite with your skin being so soft. No, it was best you stayed with your people and him with his own. It made the most sense, and he didn’t choose this for himself. For decisions regarding his future to already be set in stone…it felt like a nightmare. It made him feel out of control, and he hated to feel out of control. 

Then again, his body had chosen you…right? Eywa had played a hand in it, but his people tended to believe that mates were born for one another. It would’ve applied to you and him but you weren’t born on pandora. You were from earth; a sky person. You and him held similarities as beings born within the same galaxy but you were still light years away from what he and his people were. 

“Grandmother…” he shook his head, eyebrows pulled together as he watched her transfer the mixture into a tiny jar that looked like it was also given by the sky people, “Her and I… It does not make sense.” He could tell that she was listening because the ear closest to him twitched. He sighed. “And you know how I feel about humans–”

She hissed, lifting a hand to swat through the air in clear dismissal, “Oh stop. That is your mother speaking through you,” she sat the jar down firmly onto the table with a loud clang, and looked at him, “Grandson, you are blinded by your mother’s hatred for those people. Have the ones that have stayed behind to help rebuild our village and provide what they can do anything to you? Hm? Because I can assure you that they have not. They have been nothing but kind to us, helping us when they are able. It is clear they have remorse over what their people have done over the years, and yet, you harbor anger towards them. Why? This is your mother’s doing,” she hissed again, turning back to her work to finish up, “Crazy woman will not move on from the past that she cannot change.”

Neteyam knew she would never understand his reasoning for disliking humans. She wanted to be a bridge between the na’vi and the sky people, but due to the unwavering lack of understanding and communication – his people would not budge to make true peace. They refused to learn anymore of the language, and had fully banned humans from spending more time in the village than they had to.

The sky people were still allowed to help with their modern medicines and with building things or other small duties but it was prohibited for them to stay within the confines of the village itself. That was why his people were whispering and giving you dirty looks last night. They knew you didn’t belong, and would see you gone here soon. He wished he could set you back on your way, but he needed you here. Plus, you couldn’t travel just yet so he had time to figure things out but what if he couldn’t? What if there was no way to break a mating bond? 

It’d become his worst fear because he would have no solution. He would have to accept you as his mate and ruin the treaty between his clan and the ra’tecaya clan, issuing a war that he couldn’t imagine happening right now. Not when he still had so much to learn. He wasn’t even olo’eyktan yet and his father wasn’t old, but he’d been through his fair share of wars already. Neteyam wasn’t sure he would be able to handle another one like that. 

Neteyam could only stand there, mind reeling with several thoughts, trying to come up with something.

Mo’at screwed a top on the jar she was using before she pushed away from the table to give her unadulterated attention to her grandson.

“Neteyam, why do you worry?” She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

His body felt numb with the possible truth, hardly able to think of what to say, “Grandmother, even if I could love her…” the flames of the fire near him danced in his eyes, curling about as he spoke, “The clan… They would never accept us. They would try to kill her. You know this, and because you do, will you still not try to help? She does not belong here. She belongs with her people–”

“Aye,” she nodded with a gentle smile, “She does. She is human, after all. Though she breathes our air, she is not like us. Well, to be plain,” she chuckled, “She’s not just a tawtute. Not completely,” That comment made him tilt his head, but he knew not to ask. She wouldn’t tell him anyway, but it put a thought into his head that he would have to think over later. “Do you know that I believe that love conquers all? Your mother understood this well. She fell in love with a human, did she not? Even though your father is one of the people and olo’eyktan,” she placed her free hand against his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbone, “Deep down, he has a piece of humanity in him. Still, to this day. His soul was put into a human shell and is now in a na’vi body. He mated with your mother, and then you were born. Mm?” 

He didn’t know where she was going with this, but he continued to listen in hopes that through her beloved riddles, he’d find an answer.

“You see, it is not the people that you should be worrying about,” Mo’at dropped her hand from his cheek to point a finger into his chest. He glanced down at it, then back at her, “It is you, my grandson. You will be the only thing that will stand in between your future and your happiness. She is your mate, that is true. But,” she stepped back to cross her arms, her hair beads chiming with the movement, “What will you do about it? Will you fight it? Pretend she is not, and live a lie…or will you find it within yourself to look past your hatred for her kind in order to allow yourself to love her the way you will need to in order to protect her from those that will never see past who she is?”

When he walked out of the hut, his mind was foggy.

He had no solution just yet, and he was more confused than before he’d walked in. There was one thing he was sure of though. 

He couldn’t accept you. There was no way he would allow himself to repeat his brother’s mistake by loving a human. Nothing good would come from it anyway. For him, it didn’t make sense. He was the brother that did everything right. The perfect son. He would never stoop so low as to let a human be his mate. It was clear his grandmother wasn’t going to be any help, so he would just have to figure this all out on his own. Not like he didn’t see it coming, but he still had to try.

She was going on about the mating being inevitable and something he wouldn’t be able to change, but that wasn’t true. Anything was possible. How did you come to be his mate? Maybe Eywa made a mistake. Maybe if he went to her, he could beg for an answer. Beg her to give him someone, anyone else (preferably Seynä to avoid an all out war but he wasn’t picky— maybe they’d understand since the choosing of a mate was oftentimes involuntary). He just needed a way out of this or he would lose the hope of his people and go to war with the ra’tecaya clan. He wondered if that was before or after his mother disowned him. He couldn’t be sure.

His thoughts were skewered when he ran right into someone. 

“Oh! Neteyam!” 

It was Seynä.

He steadied her by her shoulders, noticing that her outfit was different today. She had on a beaded shawl that seemed to match the beaded top she wore. Her loincloth was still white, but had intricate patterns woven onto it in the shapes of flames. He also noticed that her hair was up in a long, white ponytail and her lips were tinted a faint, ruby color. He almost went to touch it out of curiosity, but held himself back, dropping his hands from her person.

He stood up straight, and cleared his throat.

“I see you, Seynä,” he said with a motion of pressing his fingers against his forehead, and down.

She smiled warmly before she nodded, “I see you, Neteyam, and my apologies for running into you. I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

He shook his head, feeling a smile tug at his lips, “No, it’s fine. It was an accident and you’re not hurt so…”

She giggled, “That’s true…”

A comfortable silence settled between them. His eyes darted everywhere but at her, and it would’ve made her give him some space if she didn’t take it as him feeling nervous around her. That made her feel good. Made her feel like he could possibly be warming up to her now. They were a mated pair, after all. The sooner he came around to accepting her presence, the better.

“So, I was actually looking for you,” he returned his gaze to her, interest piqued, “I wanted to know if you would like to…go on a walk…with me?”

He should've been more aware of his surroundings. He would’ve seen her coming if he had, and wouldn’t have been sentenced to deal with telling her no. The last thing he wanted to do right now was go on a walk, with Seynä of all people. He needed to find you, and talk to you. He figured that the sooner he told you about all of this, the better because maybe you and your modern technology could find a way to break the bond. He didn’t foresee Eywa helping him at all as she was the reason behind the match between you and him. So he’d settled with finding you, and taking care of this as soon as possible.

However, that was going to no longer be an option unless he came up with a good excuse to not leave with Seynä.

“Oh, uh…” he could feel her red eyes staring right through him as he fumbled over his words, “That sounds…nice, but I think I have to help my mother with–”

That was when he saw you. 

You were a few paces behind Kiri, looking extremely small next to her and almost getting lost in the hubbub of the village’s usual daily morning routine, but the one thing about you that you couldn’t hide from him was your unique smell. The scent of a mate. He held back a growl, and clenched his teeth. He needed to keep his composure, and find a way off of Seynä’s radar to get to you without pissing her off. He very much would like to prevent that from happening.

“Your mother?” She spoke, head tilting, “She left with your father moments ago. I heard something about…” her cheeks warmed, looking down for a moment, “date night.”

Fuck, he thought. That was right. It was date night for them. 

He was about to respond when he caught your eye from across the way. 

The hustle and bustle of the village suddenly ceased. Time…seemed to stop, and so did his heartbeat. It was as if it were just you and him standing there, communicating through your eyes. The way you were looking at him…it almost made him want to stop breathing. What was this feeling all of a sudden? Why did he feel compelled to run to you, to take your hand and pull you away from prying eyes deep into the forest where he could… No… No, no no. The bond. 

It was getting stronger. It was trying to control him, and it was because he was fighting the bond. Hadn’t mated with you yet. His teeth dig into his bottom lip. He really needed to do something about it, and fast.

When he blinked, you tore your gaze away from him. He almost felt his mood deplete, but he grounded himself. He watched you answer Kiri before he turned back to Seynä who, thankfully, didn’t appear to know what had just happened.

He smiled, “Yes. I forgot about that. Well, a walk sounds great, but I think–”

From the corner of his eye, he caught Kanu walking up. Neteyam thought he was going to come over to bother him and maybe it would’ve been welcomed because he could use him as a scapegoat but he watched as his friend rounded over to you, wearing an extremely big and suspicious grin on his face.

What the hell?

Neteyam frowned at the sight of Kanu pinching your cheek as his normal way of greeting you, and caught the way you giggled, looking away. 

He let a growl slip out, hands balling into fists. Seynä noticed, and frowned.

“Neteyam, is everything alright? What’s the matter?”

He could feel it. The anger building up. Kanu hadn’t said anything to him yet, but Neteyam wasn’t dumb. He could tell that his friend was interested in you. The way his tail would curl whenever he caught sight of you or talked to you. How touchy he got around you. Hell, there was even a spring in his step now. A spring? 

Neteyam was irritated and became more irritated because he knew why he was feeling this way. The bond was beginning to affect his emotions and soon, he wouldn’t be able to control them. He’d start acting on them, and that wasn’t going to be good. 

Seynä glanced behind her to where Neteyam was looking, and saw you, Kanu and Kiri. She drew her bottom lip in, biting into it. 

She then turned back to Neteyam and was about to open her mouth when he spoke first.

“I would love to go on a walk with you.”

Now wasn’t a good time to speak to you. Not with Kanu so close. Neteyam was too afraid that if he went to you now, he’d punch Kanu straight in the face and steal you away. He didn’t feel like answering a thousand and one questions upon his return from that…debacle so he chose the easy way out. Maybe it was cowardly. He didn’t care. It was for the best. At least, for now. 

Surprised, Seynä looked at him before she smiled again.

“Oh, yes. Sure.”

He held out his hand, and she happily took it as he led her in the other direction, into the forest. He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at you, watching the way your face lit up at something Kanu said. Mentally, he hissed and faced forward. 

He didn’t care, but a part of him did.

He wished he could burn that part of him alive.

Then again, the thought of punching Kanu began to sound better and better the longer he sat on it.

— ꕥ —

“Hey,” Kanu jogged up, freshly braided hair swaying with each bounce off of his foot. He swiped a hand across his forehead to rid some of the sweat built up from his usual early day volunteering, eyes set on you. He wasn’t wearing the feathers that he wore in his hair like yesterday, but had a lot more protective gear on. Maybe he was going to go out to hunt. “Can I steal her away for a while?” He asked, taking a glance at Kiri before he pinched at your cheek. He smiled at the way you looked down from his gaze, feeling his heart flutter.

Kiri noticed, and gave the both of you a knowing smile, putting her hands up, “Yeah, sure. Of course,” and winked at you before Kanu could see it, “Have fun you two,” and left the two of you alone.

Her tone sounded suggestive, but you didn’t pay any mind to it. Her little observation of Kanu having a crush on you entered your mind, but when he took your hand to lead the way, it crept back into the deep corners of your mind again.

“So,” You couldn’t help but look at your joined hands, face warming at how much his hand covered yours. You almost couldn’t even see your own hand. Plus, his skin was warm. Just like you remembered. “Where exactly are you taking m–hey!” His arms suddenly slid under your legs, picking you up from the ground. Out of shock, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, peeking over his arm at how high up you felt. Then you looked at him, bewildered, “What was that for? I can walk just fine on my own, put me down!”

He gave you a short once-over with a sly smirk before focusing on the walk ahead, “I think we have been over this already. I carried you yesterday,” he shrugged, “You walk too slow. Carrying you is much faster.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, next time you need to at least ask me? Or, I don’t know, warn me?”

His chest rumbled against your side, chuckling, “Okay. Sure,” he looked down at you, and leaned into your face, “I can do that.”

Unable to hold eye contact for much longer, you set your sights on where he was taking you, “Where are we going?”

“Mmm,” he ducked under a few bushes, and moved on to the other side, “I cannot say, but you will like it. Don’t worry.”

He was being vague, as you were expecting. While he filled the silence with idle chatter about past stories of his times in the forest, your mind drifted elsewhere. 

Neteyam’s face reappeared in your mind. The last look on his face gave off a mix of some things that you couldn’t quite put together to make sense; not even now that you had a moment to yourself to think about it. He’d been talking to Seynä, it looked like, but stared at you the entire time. Why? Did he want to say something to you, but couldn’t? It wasn’t like you cared…that much. It just looked as if he was thinking about walking over to you or perhaps you were wrong. Had he been judging you for talking to Kanu? He didn’t seem to care about whatever friendship you were beginning to have with his sister, so was it his best friend that he felt some sort of way about? 

There was a good chance you were just micro analyzing things again. But, what if you weren’t? 

When he stared at you the moment you stepped back into the village, it was strange. Everyone in the area seemed to slow to a stop, and it felt like it was just you and him standing there, locked in a strange trance. You couldn’t pull away. What was up with that? 

There was no reason to think about it now. Neteyam was strange in his own way. He hated you one minute, and was touching you the next. Maybe the heavy weight of one day becoming the next olo’eyktan was getting to his head a little. It wasn’t none of your business nor your problem so you left it at that.

When you came out of your thoughts, you noticed that you were no longer on the ground anymore. 

Kanu was taking you through the trees now.

“Holy shit,” You took a glance down and saw how high you two were now, feeling your chest become tight. You were not good with heights. “Kanu, wait–”

“I got you,” he said in a low voice, eyeing you with soft eyes, feeling his arms around you tighten as he leapt and bounded his way through tree branches larger than you’d ever seen in your lifetime.

Thankfully, it was over before you knew it. 

He cut through the trees, and when he went through the inside of a tree only to come out on the other side, that was when you heard them.

You gasped, eyes set forward.

You couldn’t believe it.

There was squawking and screeching and large flapping sounds that should’ve scared you, but no. You weren’t scared. Not in the slightest.

Kanu saw the look on your face, and smiled to himself as he cautiously set you down to walk on your own. He kept his eyes on you, watching to make sure you didn’t slip and fall off the tree branch similar to yesterday’s incident, but gave you enough space to venture onward. 

When you pushed back a few low hanging leaves that were in your way, you saw them.

The ikrans.

Your mouth fell open in awe as you watched a few of them bat around, flying around the tree itself. There were some higher up, preening themselves or talking amongst each other in squawks. 

As you took another step forward, you stumbled when you saw one closely soar up next to you, spreading out its wings to let the wind carry it, and become its point of direction. 

You smiled widely at the display, but turned your head when you felt a hand at your back. Kanu smiled back at you, cocking his head.

“What do you think?”

You took in a deep, albeit shaky breath, admiring the croaking beasts that flew all around you, “I…They’re beautiful,” but missed how close he’d gotten by bending down on one knee, yet was still able to look over your head at the ikrans soaring about.

“Yeah. They are,” he agreed, looking down at you before he noticed an ikran flying down to land right in front of you.

When it screeched out, he watched you step back and chuckled, standing on his feet again. He rounded you to walk over to the beast, a hand raised to rub across the neck. The ikran nuzzled against his touch and bucked about causing Kanu to hum, patting at it.

“Mawey, Aru. Frawzo?” 

Aru made a guttural sound that was his way of saying yes. You were staring in fascination, and Kanu noticed.

“Come. He is harmless.”

A bit weary, you walked forward, watching the way Aru’s eyes trained on you and your every step as if he were gauging to see if you were going to be friend or foe. He was beautiful, but you knew that he was also a lethal beast. Not one to be taken lightly. 

Kanu could tell how nervous you were so once you got close enough, he grabbed your hand and slowly placed it onto Aru’s neck. Even though his hand enveloped yours, he spread his fingers out to curl around yours. You glanced up at him, catching a smile on his face.

“See?” He quirked an eyebrow, looking at Aru now. The beast made a purring sound that caused you to break out a smile of your own, visibly relaxing, “He likes you.”

“I think this is the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” you admitted.

Kanu chuckled, almost mesmerized by how soft your hand was and how close you were to him. He could feel the body heat emanating off of you, brushing up against his own. He swallowed, and kept his mind elsewhere. “Then you would not want to take a ride on Aru with me?”

To fly on the back of an ikran… Truthfully, it wasn’t what you dreamt about on a day to day basis but thinking about it now, it sounded fun. Except, you were afraid of heights and you weren’t nearly tall enough to comfortably sit on the back of one without the reassurance that you wouldn’t go flying to your death. Still, you’d taken risks before. Sometimes the risk was worth the reward. You’d thought about flying on an ikran, but that was before you declined Max’s offer of him making you your own avatar. Humans just weren’t made to ride beasts like ikrans, and you never thought about it again. Now, you were given a chance but how smart would it be to take it?

“Kanu…I would love to, but—”

“I will be right there,” he cut in, leaning forward with his voice lowered, “Right behind you, little one. I will not let anything happen to you. Okay?”

The look in his eyes made you want to trust him, and that was something you had to do in order to get somewhere with someone. He’d done a better job at caring for you and being friendly than Neteyam, who was the sole reason you were having to stay at the village in the first place. Of all people, Kanu was the one to be trusted. You were sure of it.

When you nodded, he squeezed your hand before he pulled away and turned you to face him. He placed his hands on your waist, thumbing at your hips, “I will mount you first. Then I will follow. Understand?”

You gave him a slow nod, still slightly unsure about the ride but when were you going to get another chance like this? 

Kanu tugged you close to him, face inches from yours. You flushed under his gaze, but didn’t look away, “Nisyep ‘ekxin.”

“What does that mean?” You asked him, hoping it wasn’t something important you needed to know in case he decided to not tell you.

He smirked, and leaned close to your ear before muttering, “It means ‘hold tight’, little one,” before he picked you up, and gently placed you onto Aru’s back.

After you were settled, he climbed on as well, positioning himself right behind you, just as he’d said earlier. His arms looped through yours to grab the reins in front of you, hugging you close to him. His chest felt comforting against your clothed back, almost feeling safe enough to sigh into him. 

Kanu placed a hand on your thigh, and fit his chin into the crook of your neck to look at you, “Are you ready?”

You were almost too distracted by his touch to even think of an answer but you managed a small, “yes,” before you felt his hand slide away and return to holding Aru’s strap. 

He motioned the reins upwards, and yipped for Aru to move off of the tree branch. You squeezed your legs against his body, and held onto the front part of the saddle, feeling your heart race against your chest. Kanu could tell that the drop was going to be the scariest part for you so he dropped one hand from the strap, and used it to wrap around your waist to hold you against him as Aru dove down into the sky, taking flight. You gasped, and held onto Kanu’s arm, eyes squeezed shut, feeling your body jolt.

He made sure Aru leveled the two of you out before he glanced at the side of your face. He chuckled, finding you unable to open your eyes.

“Mmm, you are missing the best part, syulang.”

You peeled back one eye, and saw nothing but clouds in front of you. Daring to take a look down, you peered over and saw the forest underneath you. Even some of the hallelujah mountains not too far away. Most of the ground looked like a blurry mess, but it still didn’t make you feel any better being so high up in the air. 

You gasped, and straightened out, choosing to keep your eyes forward for the duration of the ride.

Height aside, it wasn’t that bad. In fact…it was a little fun. You’d seen ikrans before, had passing thoughts of riding one but that was all they were. Passing thoughts. It seemed unrealistic to give riding one a serious consideration, believing that being human and so small, you’d fall off or something. What you didn’t consider was riding with someone, a na’vi that could hold onto you and keep you from falling. Plus, ikrans were wild beasts. Tamed around their riders, but still belonged to the forest. You wouldn’t have been able to get within 20 feet of one if Kanu wasn’t there with you.

“Are you okay?” You heard him ask, craning your head back to look at him. He was still holding onto you while keeping a hand on the riding strap, eyes roaming across your face for any sign of distress. 

“I’m okay,” you nodded, smiling at him.

You looked so beautiful with the way your eyes glimmered against the sun rays, how you leaned against his chest, hand still on his arm. You fit perfectly into his arms, it was almost unfair. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you. To know if your lips were as soft as they looked. To feel your nimble fingers on his face, on his neck, everywhere you could reach. He wondered what you tasted like, sounded like if he took some part of you in his mouth and caressed you. Made you feel things you’d probably never felt before. 

Everything about you intrigued him. Vastly smaller than him, plush and fragile. Your kind and his weren’t supposed to mix, but he argued that you’d fit nicely into his lifestyle. You were bold, intelligent, beautiful, humble, kind and open to knowing about him and his people. He didn’t believe that you held the same reservations about the intermingling of your species and his as his people did. No. You were different. You were curious, and open-minded. Maybe… Maybe there was hope for him. It was too early to start courting you due to not wanting to scare you away, but he wanted to continue to get to know you. Spend more time with you.

Fuck. All of it was messing with his head, you were doing a number on him. He knew you’d have to leave the village someday soon, and knew he’d need to spend every waking moment with you in order to gain your favor and your trust so that he could court you and ask you to be his mate. The clan would want his head for it, his father especially, but he didn’t care. As of now, at such an early stage, he felt like he’d do anything for you. He had all of the attributes of the perfect mate. He could protect you, provide for you and love you. He lacked nothing. He was even curious about children, and how it would work with you. 

Kanu had planned and thought out a lot in regards to you, and what a life with you would look like. He could be good, so good to you, he just knew it. Now, he just needed you to see that. 

Shaking his head and ridding himself of those thoughts for now, he decided to impress you a little. He trusted that you were safe the way you were and removed his arm from your midsection to take hold of the reins once again, tugging them to the side to get Aru to fly right. You watched with curiosity, wondering what he was doing. 

He yipped and Aru began soaring forward, closer to the forest. You glanced down again, and released a tiny gasp, realizing how high you two still were.

“Kanu–”

“Don’t worry,” he said next to your ear, able to hear the smile in his voice, “I have someplace to take you. Will you let me?”

“A place?” You asked.

“Mmm, yes,” he directed Aru closer to the trees below, eyes ahead, “You’ll like it. Trust me.”

Wherever he was taking you didn’t seem like it was that far away.

It was only when you dismounted Aru and was placed back on the ground with Kanu’s help that you heard it.

Crashing waves.

It was the sea.

Kanu let you jog further on as he tended to Aru for a moment to make sure he didn’t wander too far for when it was time to fly back.

Every step you took, the louder the sound of the waves got. When you got close to the edge of the cliff, you bent down and took a peek over it. The sea’s waves tumbled and rolled before they pushed and slammed against the rocks below, only to pull back and repeat the process. You closed your eyes for a moment to listen, finding the sound soothing. 

In all of your time on pandora, you never got to see past the forest. You knew there was a sea identical to the one on earth here on pandora, but to see it… It was different. Much, much different. 

You opened your eyes when you heard footsteps from behind you. 

“This is the eastern sea,” he said as he approached you, squinting at the rolling tides.

You glanced up at him to find him standing next to you, “How did you find this place?”

“Why?” He looked down at you, smiling now, “Like it?”

“It’s beautiful, yes,” you stood up, barely coming up to his waist.

Kanu hummed, looking back at the sea, watching the clouds begin to close in around the sun. It looked like it could start raining at any moment. 

“Me and Aru fly everyday looking for places like this. It is…” another smile, a softer one curved his lips, “…where I feel most at home.”

You stared at him, “The water is your home? What about the forest?”

He hummed again, in thought, “The forest is my home, but the sea… It calls to me. I see her in my dreams. Every night.”

You assumed that ‘she’ was meant to refer to the sea. It wasn’t odd to hear because you could only imagine feeling stuck in one place when you felt more drawn to another. Kanu was an omaticayan. He grew up in the forest and was taught to feel that it was where he belonged. Sometimes, home is where the heart is, and his heart seemed to be with the sea. You’d heard about another na’vi tribe. They were called the metkayina. They lived by the sea, and have for decades. Maybe there was a connection between him and the tribe. It didn’t seem like he knew anymore then you did, so you chose to just leave it at that for now.

The two of you spent a bit more time by the cliff for an hour or two before Kanu decided to take you back to the village. He called for Aru, and mounted you back on his back before he hopped behind you and set off towards the sky, leaving the tempting waters of the sea behind.

— ꕥ —

“I am surprised that you agreed to walk with me again,” Seynä commented, taking feather-light steps, letting her hair sway with each step. She smiled to herself, hands behind her back, fiddling with her fingers as a nervous habit, “I like being in your presence. Is that strange? We hardly know each other…”

Neteyam was about to respond when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He made sure to not draw her attention to him, but he quickly put a hand over his heart, and paused for a moment, eyes wide. What is that? That pain…

His body temperature started to rise, but he still tried to appear like nothing was wrong. Fuck, something was wrong but he couldn’t figure out what.

Then, out of nowhere, it stopped.

He inhaled slowly, exhaling out.

He rubbed at his chest in shock. What had just happened? 

“Neteyam?”

He blinked, looking at Seynä.

“Uhh…No,” Neteyam quipped, giving her a short glance, choosing to stare ahead the minute she looked at him. Whatever happened needed to be put on the back burner for now. He could think it over later, “I don’t think so. I find you comforting as well.”

He could tell that made her happy by the way she dipped her head down, hiding a giddy smile. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She wasn’t like a lot of the other women in the village. Overbearing and spending more time trying to get his attention than bettering themselves at what they were good at. The woman he wanted to mate with had to be strong and soft at the same time. He wanted someone that could laugh and joke with him, push his buttons a little, excite him. The women in the village looked like they were such a bore. He didn’t even think they could hold a good conversation. Would opt for just staring at him as he spoke instead. He couldn’t imagine a more annoying situation to be in, really. 

That was why he appreciated the way Seynä seemed to be at times. Her display yesterday, while he was in the hut foreseeing your injuries getting treated, was unattractive. Her initial appearance was otherworldly, intrigued him, but showing possession towards him, someone she didn’t properly know yet — that was strange. For the most part, she seemed…okay. As long as she kept that side to her locked away for good, he couldn’t see why they wouldn’t be able to get along.

If he had to choose anyone to be his mate, he guessed he was glad it was her. She was beautiful, a warrior like him and carried herself with grace. He wasn’t sure what her conversation was like just yet, but from what he could tell, she was decent enough. Perhaps overtime, he’d be able to peel back more of her layers and get her comfortable with being around him more. He was going to be stuck with her for life, especially once they had children. So, it was best to get used to her presence as well and start treating her like his mate.

However, it started with spending time with her, as much as that made him want to yawn. 

Because he’d been walking around aimlessly, when he came out of his thoughts, he noticed that he’d led her towards the tree of souls. A place he tended to go to whenever he wanted to be alone. 

Seynä looked at it in awe, eyes reflecting what she was staring at, “Beautiful.”

“This is the tree of souls, our most sacred place here in the forest,” he walked closer to the tree, enraptured by its beauty, “I come here for the peace and quiet that it brings me. Whether to think or simply be in Eywa’s presence, it’s calming.”

The way he spoke about the tree and the place itself was captivating and drawing to her. She’d walked up and was standing next to him now, watching him. She was on his right side and could see the tattoo on his face clearly. From the maturity in his tone to the way he spoke, to the sharp, strong build of his body and how well he carried himself — she felt enamored with him. 

They were like night and day, him and her. Neteyam, who could come off as cold and standoffish. Not a team player and preferred to be alone half of the time. He had all of the things that could make him a good leader if he didn’t lack actual leadership skills which started with having a good relationship with those he wanted to lead. She could tell he didn’t have that with his people, but it was something he could work on.

She, on the other hand, worked well with others. Made friends everywhere she went, and knew how to be soft when it was time. She was a warrior, but she could allow herself to understand other’s needs, and provide security and warmth to her people. That was what a future tsahik was known as amongst the clan. Wise, gentle and loving. 

Even though Neteyam was missing a few things that would collectively make him the perfect olo’eyktan, there was still plenty of time to correct those errors.

He was still staring at the tree in thought when she decided to ask him a question, “Do you really hate this arrangement that we are in?”

The question startled him, but he was not easily swayed off of his feet in conversation so he indulged with an answer, “No. I do not hate easily. This union of ours is beneficial to both of our clans and I always do my duty. If I am to be the future olo’eyktan, then I must–”

“But that is not what I asked,” She interrupted, face suddenly pulled into a conflicted frown, teeth worrying at her lip, “I am asking if this arrangement bothers you because we are a matched pair. Chosen, but not wanted, you see,” She stared into his eyes and could see how reluctant he was to share his true thoughts, but she had to know. She just had to, “I do not know if I can live with just a small piece of you and I know that you said that you will try to love me but–”

“Where is this coming from?” He asked her, slightly tilting his head to the side, confused, “Yes. I said that I would try, but it is something that I cannot and will not promise you. You know this, and yet, you still ask. Why? I cannot fall in love so quickly, and it would be wrong of me to promise something that I might not be able to do.”

“I know…I suppose that I am making sure there is not someone else that has your heart,” She let out a breathless laugh, feeling a tad bit pathetic from the way that she was acting, “I know that I do not have a right to claim you, but–”

“No one has my heart,” He intervened, and caught a gleam in her eyes.

He wanted nothing more than to reassure her. That she had nothing to worry about, but he struggled to. He couldn’t get you out of his head, and it angered him. You meant nothing to him. Absolutely fucking nothing, and it was like he couldn’t stop thinking about you. What was so special about you? Why did Eywa choose you? You were loud, stubborn, moody, mouthy and you were already showing signs of not wanting to listen to him even when he knew what was best. He didn’t understand. 

Then, the image of you and Kanu together earlier came crashing back in. He wasn’t an idiot. He could see how close you two were becoming, and it was beginning to piss him off. Kanu had never shown any interest in humans before. Again, why you? 

His grandmother told him that you and him were mated and under eywa’s will, but he refused to accept it and never planned to. You weren’t going to ruin what he had taken him so long to build. Who were to come bombarding into his life, forcing a mating onto him? Seynä was also forced onto him, but she was different. She was a na’vi, like him. It lessened the sting, but you? A human? No. He couldn’t bring himself to accept something so… He would rather force himself to give Seynä a chance because she was someone he could see himself being with. He just needed to figure out a way to break the bond between you and him, and then move on.

But why did his life have to be on hold until then? Why not start now?

So, he stepped forward, and delicately took Seynä’s face in his hands. She gasped, and his lips twitched, “You are a beautiful woman, Seynä. My heart is yours to claim, if that is something that you still wish.”

This is best, he tried to tell himself, feeling a part of him growl out of anger, this is what I have to do. 

Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She could feel the way his body heat wrapped around hers, his soft touch to her skin, the warmth in his eyes and how coaxing he sounded. She wanted nothing more than to be loved, and she began to think that perhaps this arrangement was for the best. It didn’t start off on pleasant terms, but maybe fate truly did work in mysterious ways. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, almost as light as the wind but she heard him, loud and clear, and nodded. 

The few seconds of hesitancy was only noticeable to him, but it only made him rush forward to claim her lips all the more. Like he was hoping for, you instantly disappeared from his mind and he kept the image of you in his head forced down as he allowed himself to move his lips against Seynä’s, desperate to prove his body and now eywa, wrong. That no matter what had already been decided, he could still change it, and even if it seemed impossible, he’d still keep trying because this was how things were supposed to be.

Seynä was perfect, and he refused to let her slip through his fingers just because you were now in the picture. You were nothing to him. Nothing but an obstacle in his way. So he would accept fate’s challenge, and it would unknowingly prove to be one hell of a fight.

After spending more alone time with him, Seynä told him that she remembered that there was something she needed to go and help her mother with. She told him that she hoped to see him again, and he made her a promise that he would see what he could do. As a farewell for now, he planted a kiss to the back of her hand, and began making his way back into the village.

His stomach was in knots, but he ignored it. From now on, he was going to take you and this stupid fucking bond a lot more seriously. He realized that his duty as Seynä’s future mate and the clan’s future olo’eyktan would only get closer and closer. He couldn’t sit around and twiddle his thumbs in hopes for a miracle. If he wanted something done, he needed to do it himself.

The next thing on his agenda was grabbing you the moment you were done cozying up with Kanu, and filling you in on the current situation between you and him. Once you knew and were caught up to speed, he’d ask what he knew about na’vi bonds. If nothing, then he’d cut his losses and head to Max and Norm. As much as he would’ve preferred staying away from those two particular humans, he’d have no other choice. 

— ꕥ —

After the kiss with Neteyam, Seynä felt like she was on cloud nine. 

Just as she was about to start heading towards the village again, she heard rustling in the bushes to her left. Her ear twitched as another set of rustling came from the same direction. She looked at the bushes, eyes narrowed. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to send Neteyam away. She wanted to hang back and take a minute to savor the moment she had with him, but he should’ve stayed. Should’ve let him walk with her to the village. She wished she could take it back now.

She ripped her knife out of its placeholder that rested on her hip, and raised it in the height of her nose, squatting down. 

She waited and waited, but it was quiet. Maybe a little too quiet. She wondered if it got scared and took off, but it was unlikely. At least it would’ve been where she was from. Perhaps this part of the forest held cowardly animals. Ones that run at every little sound. For once, she hoped so.

After sitting there for another five to ten minutes, she hissed, and stood back up. There was no use in hiding if she couldn’t spot her possible assailant. Whatever it was likely ran away by now, just as she had suspected it would.

She twirled the knife in her hand before pushing it back off into her leather blade carrier. She didn’t have time for this. It was close to eclipse, and she preferred being home before dark and not stuck out in the forest like live bait for something much bigger than she.

Though two steps forward, she was toppled to the forest floor, knocking the wind right out of her. She coughed and gasped, trying to breathe, but she noticed what had run over her. Her eyes went wide at the sight.

“What is this?” 

There was a human…cushioned, right in between her breasts, face first. However, as much as it should’ve, that didn’t bother her so much as the fact that it was a human on top of her and not some wild animal that she could’ve seen coming. 

“Ugh,” she shoved the boy off of her before she stood up with a quickness, drawing her knife again, “Who are you?! I ought to kill you now, filthy human! How dare you touch me without my permission?! Do you have a death wish?!” She hissed, baring her fangs.

“Nngh…” He turned his face over from the dirt to look at her, squinting at a blurry form. He couldn't understand a word that she was saying, but he noted that she sounded angry about something. He coughed, and sniffled, “Whoa,” his eyes went wide when his vision began to clear, “You’re so pretty.”

She stumbled back, unsure of what to say after that. Had he just…complimented her? She threatened him, and he decided to call her pretty. 

This human…was strange. 

He coughed again, and she surveyed his body with a frown. He had a few cuts across his body, and his clothes were tattered. He looked like he’d been through hell and back, but she wouldn’t have usually cared. Humans were beneath her. In fact, she believed that every last one of them should’ve been sent back to their dying planet. That, or wiped out. Completely. Just to make sure they didn’t decide to start procreating. 

She was always taught that once she killed the head, the body would follow.

But, once Jakesully became the new olo’eyktan of the omaticaya clan, her people had no say in the matter. The humans were stationed near their part of the forest anyway. Going after them would mean another all out war, and again, her people shot for peace. Some of the most lethal warriors known to man, but peacemakers before warriors. Always. So, the sky people were deemed not dangerous and off limits to all of the na’vi who still held onto their vengeful hearts. The ones that could never forgive the sky people for all of the damage and deaths they caused.

Still, the more Seynä looked at the human now passed out on the ground, she could feel a tugging near her heart. Sympathy, was it? How dull. She shouldn’t fall for such a childish trick, but it was hard to ignore. A part of her had no problem leaving him there to die, but the other part…

She growled under her breath.

What an inconvenience humans could be.

She stashed the knife away again before she dropped down to her knees and scooped the boy up. All she had to do was bring him to the village, let the tsahik see over him and she never had to deal with him again. It was just a kind gesture. Maybe to clear her conscience from how awful she’d been treating you, another human she couldn’t stand. Then again, she felt she could make amends with you since it was clear Neteyam wanted nothing to do with you. You were no longer a threat. A minor nuisance, what with being around the village and all, but she could deal with it for now. 

She smiled to herself, the kiss coming back into her mind. 

Oh yes, she most definitely could. 

The boy in her arms started to shift until he got comfortable, and she glared down at him. It was only when he groaned in his sleep and put his hand on her breast that she started to grind at her teeth.

She wondered if she murdered the boy, would anyone even notice.

He nuzzled his face against her chest, smacking his lips.

It’s worth a shot, she thought.

— ꕥ —

As Neteyam got closer to the village, he finally acknowledged that strange strike of pain from earlier. 

Where had it come from? Was it the bond? He shook his head. Not possible. He knew that the last time he saw you, you were talking to Kanu but you wouldn’t have left anywhere with him…would you? Then again, he was the one that had left with Seynä so that was more than likely it. He was the one that caused it. 

He sighed. He’d been so angry at you for talking to Kanu that he wanted to be anywhere but in the village at the time, and agreed to walk with Seynä. Then…he went and kissed her. It wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. It wasn’t like he fucked her or mated with her. It didn’t matter. She was his mate. It wasn’t a crime.

He winced. It’s not a crime, he told himself. He was allowed to kiss her. In fact, he was sure she told her parents by now. They were probably delighted to hear it. He couldn’t care less.

The moment he stepped back into the village was when he caught you and Kanu stepping out from the forest, back into the village as well. He cursed his good hearing before crouching behind someone’s hut, intent on listening to the conversation you were having with him.

The least he could do was spy a little. Wasn’t wrong. You were his…responsibility and Kanu was his best friend. He was allowed to know where you two went off to, and why you came back with him instead of separately.

“Did you have fun?” He heard Kanu’s stupid deep voice ask you, tone light and airy as a hand of his drifted up towards the middle of your back, a big grin on his face.

Neteyam growled, warningly.

“I’ve done lots of things while here on Pandora, but ride an ikran?” You smiled back, “Never. I had a lot of fun. Thank you again.”

What the fuck?

 An ikran? 

Neteyam blinked. 

Did Kanu take you out to ride on Aru? 

In his culture, that was seen as an intimate date. Something you didn’t do unless you were really considering courting the person. 

No…

He couldn’t allow it. He couldn’t. 

He acted before he could’ve tried to rationalize himself on the matter.

When he came stomping up, you were laughing at something Kanu said, and it made Neteyam’s emotions boil over. He felt his body heat rise again, but he paid no mind to it this time. He was much too angry to care.

“Hey!”

At his voice, you spun around and held back the urge to roll your eyes. You crossed your arms, prepared for him to lecture you about something. Wouldn’t be the first and isn’t going to be the last, you thought.  

At the sight of his friend, Kanu waved at him, “Brother! I saw you with Seynä earlier. Did you guys have a good outin–” He was cut off by a sharp shove to his chest, almost landing him on the ground. His face twisted up in anger, mouth agape, “Hey, man, what the hell is wrong with you?!”

Neteyam stepped past his personal space, noses almost touching, “Where did you take her?”

Kanu frowned, “Why do you care? You’ve been treating her like shit since she’s got here. I took her out. Is there a problem?”

“Yeah. There is a problem, brother,” Neteyam fired back, chest heaving, “She stays with me. Understand? You do not take her anywhere without asking me first.”

Kanu smiled a little before taking a look around him. Some villagers started to gather at the commotion, probably wondering what was going on. He chuckled, looking back at his friend, “When did she become your property? I asked, and she said yes.”

Neteyam glanced back at you, noticing the wild look in your eyes. He could tell that you were ready to jump in between them at any second to prevent a fist fight, but he wasn’t dumb enough to let things go that far. He wasn’t the hot headed one, but he knew he looked like it. 

He took a deep breath, looking back at Kanu, “Do not piss me off, Kanu. You will not like it.”

Kanu smirked, getting in his face, “Yeah? Then tell me. Can she or can she not make her own decisions?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Neteyam frowned, fists slowly balling up, “You take her to the ikrans, and then what? Where did you go? How far?”

“It was a short ride,” Kanu complied, rolling his eyes, “I didn’t take her far, but why does it matter? Hm? What, you suddenly care about her now?”

“Hey,” you stood next to them, putting both hands on their hips, applying a little pressure so they knew you were there, “What are we, 12? Let’s not do this. Least not right here where everyone’s staring.”

Kanu glanced down at you before he took a step back, hands raised, “I’m fine. It’s ‘teyam here that suddenly feels overly protective over you. The same person that let you fall out of a tree yesterday.”

Neteyam’s jaw ticked, “You’re pushing it, Kanu. Careful.”

Kanu full on laughed now, “Are you joking? You’re getting pissy over a girl that you can barely stand to be around, but now… Suddenly, when I take her out and I show her how she deserves to be treated, that is when you want to show up and act like you care?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “This is a joke. You are a joke, brother. She should sleep with me tonight,” he grabbed your arm, pulling you against his side, surprising you. “You probably left her cold and untouched last night,” Neteyam watched Kanu thumb at the waistband of your pants, making you squirm a bit. I called his name, clearly a little uncomfortable. Neteyam was seething, losing it by the second. Kanu smirked, “I would never do that. In fact, I plan on laying her down on my cot full of fur tonight, and stuffing her full of my cock. Bet I’ll have her screaming. Begging for more. Soft, plus thighs wide open, cunt wrapped tight around me. Might even mark her, and–”

“Neteyam!”

He didn’t even blink. It was red. For the first time in his life, his vision had turned red. It was all he could see as he was positioned on top of Kanu, punching him, nonstop. He heard a voice similar to yours at the back of his head, but he couldn’t focus on anything but beating the living shit out of his best friend. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Kanu on top of you, touching you, making you moan and want more. Letting him bite you, and mark you like his mate. No. No, no no. Neteyam would kill him first. Yes. He’d kill him before he got the chance.

“Son, come on!” He felt his father pull at him, trying to get him off of Kanu but he wasn’t budging. 

With each punch, Kanu saw less and less. His eyes were beginning to swell up, and his lips were busted open. Blood was everywhere. Maybe that was why Neteyam saw nothing but red.

“Come on, son! Get off of him!” Jake finally managed to pull his son from the poor boy, pushing you away with his finger raised. “That way,” he told him but Neteyam was staring at Kanu’s moaning figure, and the way you knelt down to him, voice trembling and unsure hands hovering over him, not knowing how to help. Why were you over there? You needed to be by his side. Not Kanu’s. Did you forget the way he talked about you? Did you like that? Jake growled angrily, shoving at Neteyam again, “Go on, boy! That way or it’ll be me and you next, ya hear me?!”

Frowning deeply, Neteyam turned on his heel and began walking away, his father in tow.

“Great mother,” Mo’at exclaimed, eyes on Kanu as he was brought in with Tsu’tey on one side and a good friend of his on the other, “What happened to the poor boy?”

Tsu’tey sighed deeply before he set him down by the fire, on the cot that was usually laid out for those that came in for treatment, “Him and Neteyam,” was all he needed to say.

She sighed, brows cinching together as she bent to her old knees, checking him out. After a long and miserable moment, she hummed and sent the men away. Tsu’tey lingered a little, the worried father in him not wanting to leave just yet. She sent him a look that wasn’t so threatening, but that she still meant business.

He nodded, and lifted up the flap, leaving.

You stood in place, hands fumbling in front of you. You couldn’t look away from him. His face. There was so much blood. So much blood..

“Child.”

“Yes!” You squeaked, blinking at her, panting.

Mo’at licked her lips, “You too.”

You knew what she meant, but your feet wouldn’t move. Not yet.

Your eyes fell back on Kanu, who was unconscious now.

“Will he…will he be okay…?”

“Mmm,” she stood up, and walked over to her medical table, gathering supplies, “He was beaten up, child. Not shot. He will live,” when she turned her around, she placed her hands on her waist, eyebrows raised, “But I need to work. Alone.”

Leaving him didn’t feel right, but you weren’t allowed to stay. She needed the space, and the privacy so you reluctantly saw yourself out.

The cool afternoon air hit you like a nice breeze, but you couldn’t even enjoy it. Not after what you saw. 

You frowned. 

You needed to see him. No matter how much you’d rather see him fall off a cliff, you had to. For Kanu’s sake.

You weren’t sure where he would be so you planned on asking the man that last saw him.

Jake rubbed at the bridge of his nose, bouncing a baby in his other arm. He was pacing around the hut, shaking his head.

“That boy is going to make me old and gray long before I’m old and gray.”

You stood by the fire in the middle of the hut, not knowing what to say. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake stopped next to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. He gave you a sympathetic smile, eyes darting from your face to the fire, “Neteyam… He’s not usually like that. Hot headed. He’s the most level headed one out of all of us, actually. Sorta what’s going to make him a good leader, but not that shit he just pulled. Do you…” he winced, not sure how to approach the subject, “Do you, by any chance, know what set him off? As I said, he’s not like that. Not usually. I’ve never seen him like that. Angry…”

It shouldn’t have shocked you to hear that Neteyam was typically a calm person, but it did because from what you saw earlier…

He looked terrifying. Like he’d done that before.

You swallowed, nervously.

Then, you shook your head, “I don’t know, sir,” you answered, choosing to keep that bit of information to yourself for now, “Can I get a moment alone with him?”

“Course, sweetheart,” he patted your shoulder before he walked out to give you some privacy. 

The moment he left, you heard Neteyam stir awake. You walked over, and knelt by his side. He was laying on a spare cot that was covered in furs similar to what he owned back at his place. His skin was damp with sweat, and it looked like he was running a fever. Had he been sick this entire time?

Sighing, you stood up to go in search of a towel or something when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist. You looked down, and saw him looking at you through lowered eyes, looking to be in some sort of pain. 

“Stay,” his gruff voice spoke, having more power over you than you wanted it to. 

You sat back down, noticing that his grip on you didn’t lessen. He settled back on the cot, exhaling, face twisted up as if just breathing was painful. No matter what he did today, you couldn’t deny what you felt. Maybe it was stupid to feel bad for him, but you did. That was just the kind of person you were. 

Gently, you rested a hand on his forehead but pulled back instantly, “Neteyam, you’re burning up. What’s going on–”

“You smell nice.”

Whereas you would’ve been grateful for the compliment, now didn’t seem like the right time for it. 

Still, you accepted it.

“…thanks.”

“And you are warm,” he added, making you feel strange.

You didn’t know what to say so you kept quiet, but gasped when you felt him pull you down on top of him. Thankfully he had fur covering his body or else you would’ve had to lay on top of his hot skin. Feeling your face flush out of the close proximity, you cleared your throat.

“Neteyam, you can’t just pull me and toss me around like I’m some rag doll to you. I’m a person. I deserve respect just like you d–”

“You talk too much. Just lay with me.”

You sent him a funny look, “I didn’t come here for that.”

He opened his eyes, staring up at the tip of the hut, “Then why did you come?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

“I had to see you, to ask why you did it.”

Neteyam sighed before he pushed you off of him, and turned on his side, back facing you now, “You know why I did it.”

“No,” you said firmly, sitting cross legged now, “I don’t. That’s why you’re going to tell me.”

“Why bother?” He muttered in a bored tone, “You will take Kanu’s side anyway.”

You frowned, and nudged his shoulder with your foot causing him to grunt, “You don’t know that.”

Neteyam snorted, “I do. You stayed by his side earlier. Why? Do you like him?”

Words failed you for a moment, something Neteyam noted. When you were with Kiri, that sort of question would’ve been easy to answer. Now that you’d spent more time with Kanu…it was hard to say. You weren’t in love or anything, but…there was something there for him. Did Neteyam need to know that? 

You frowned to yourself. Why shouldn’t he? You didn’t care what he thought. His opinion didn’t matter. 

Right?

You shook your head, “No. I don’t.”

He looked at you from over his shoulder, eyeing you down, “You are a bad liar.”

You pushed his shoulder again with your foot, trying not to smile, “I am not!”

He grunted again, but this time in pain. You scrambled to your knees to crouch over him, looking over his body, trying to figure out what to do.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you! Where is the pain? What can I do–ah!”

This time, he had you down on the cot, him hovering on top of you. His face was close to yours, feeling his breath on your lips. It was just like last night, but not nearly as hot as now. Plus, the two of you were in his parents hut. There was hardly any privacy, just a little flap that could easily go up if a gust of wind came through. 

But, you were unable to move.

This was a man you were supposed to hate. He’d let you fall out of the tree yesterday, bossed you around every chance he got, was constantly hot and cold with you and fought with his best friend earlier. Made a bloody mess out of him for what? Some stupid comments that were clearly a joke? 

Neteyam was a great big headache, and you wanted to never have to see him again but a part of you didn’t believe that. Didn’t believe that you could hate him as much as you liked to claim. There was something about him… So drawing…

“Kanu is not right for you.”

“And who is?”

Neteyam got quiet. He stared down at you, the sexual tension so thick, he could taste it. He could smell you. Your sweet aroma oozing off of you in waves. It made him hungry–no. More like ravenous. Fuck, he could hardly stand it. If only you weren’t so annoying, so mouthy, so soft, so weak, so human. 

“That’s what I thought,” you snapped back, “Now get off me. You’re hot and sweaty. It’s gross.”

He smirked, lazily, drinking you in. The way your shirt was half buttoned, able to see the swell of your breasts. God, he could fuck you right now and you would probably let him. No, he was positive you would. That look in your eyes… You wanted it just as bad as him. 

He could tell.

“Fine,” He said, dropping his head down into your neck, groaning at your scent. He was slowly losing it, “It’s me. I’m right for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re not funny. Now, move. I really do think you might have a fever, Neteyam.”

“Fuck, just the tip,” he muttered into the skin of your neck, minutes away from exploding, “I need you.”

The broken sound of his deep voice made you want to squeeze your legs shut but you couldn’t because he was positioned right in between them. He felt the pressure of you trying though, and smiled.

“Too obvious,” he said before he nipped at your earlobe, earning a cute gasp from you, “Two minutes. Maybe less.”

You knew what he was asking for, but couldn’t do it. Something about him was a little off putting. He wasn’t himself, and it had something to do with how hot his body was. It wasn’t normal. Not even for him.

“Neteyam…”

“Mm, yeah. Say it again.”

“You’re not well,” you tried again, him being much too heavy to push off with any real force from your end, “I think you should just rest, don’t you?”

He chuckled against the shell of your ear, fingers grabbing at your hips to pull you up against his erection, eating up the long whine that came from the back of your throat, “Does it feel like I need to rest to you? No… I think I need to use all of this energy and frustration that I have on you. You would agree, no?”

The more you laid there, the more you were losing your resolve. 

You said his name again, but it turned into a moan from feeling him grind himself against you, the head of his cock poking through and catching across the thin fabric of your pants. Your cunt ached for the attention, but you had to stop this. Somehow.

“You belong to me,”  said as he leaned up to look at you again, jaw ticking, “Not Kanu. Me. Do you understand?”

You had to keep telling yourself that this wasn’t the Neteyam that you talked with earlier. This Neteyam was much different, and probably a little more dangerous. 

“Neteyam, I don’t belong to anyone. Not even Kanu. Where are you getting this from?”

He slammed a hand down next to your head, glaring at you, “I…I do not want you, but…” He seemed to be struggling with himself about something, and part of you wanted to hear him, to understand because maybe this was like drinking too much alcohol and pouring out your deepest, darkest desires. Maybe what Neteyam had been saying were things he meant, just deep down. Things he wouldn’t usually say if he were in his right mind. Then again, you took that theory with a grain of salt. You didn’t exactly know what was going on with him so it could’ve been delirium. Something not meant to be taken seriously. “I don't know. I just know that he can't have you. He can't,” he said under his breath, looking off to the side before gazing down at you, “You’re not his to claim. Sakanom. Mine.”

Just as he was about to lean down to kiss you, the flap of the hut was pushed up.

“Oh god, gross.”

Your ears perked up.

“Kiri?” You tried to look around Neteyam’s thick shoulder, meeting her pained expression.

Neteyam groaned at the interruption, and laid his head on your naked chest, slowly mouthing his way to your nipple again.

“Yep, and I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” You reached an arm out, hoping to keep her attention. You twisted away from Neteyam's grasp, but he kept pulling you back.

Reluctantly, she turned back around, but looked everywhere but at the two of you and what you two were possibly doing.

“Yeah?”

“Help me get your brother off of me. Please,” you said in a pleading tone, hoping the puppy dog look in your eyes was a good cry for help.

Even when you weren’t sure you wanted the help.

Neteyam felt big. Maybe he was right. If it was just the tip then maybe it was okay to–

“Help…how, exactly?” Kiri asked, sending you a confused look.

“I don’t know! You know him better than I do.”

She scoffed, “Yeah, but not whoever is trying to mate you right under our parents roof.”

You sighed. She had a point.

You were ready to give up when you heard Kiri gasp out, scaring you.

“Sorry,” she smiled, “I got just the thing.”

She walked over and Neteyam glared at her through his hazy gaze, watching her bend down next to him. She cupped a hand over his ear, and whispered something. He then made a face before he rolled off of you, and wrapped himself up in the furs underneath him. Giggling, she stood back up and held out a hand for you to take. Grateful, you took it and sprung up and away from him before he thought about pulling you back. 

She led you out of the hut, and you turned to her, impressed, “Wow, it worked. What did you say to him?”

She smirked, “Trust me. It’s better that you not know. Let’s go check on Kanu, yeah?”

Shrugging, you followed her, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Neteyam had his eyes closed, face frowned up, trying to rid the new image that Kiri had put in his head. 

He did not want to relive the moment he caught his grandmother by the washing river stark naked, bathing, but here he was. 

“Count your days, Kiri,” he mumbled to himself, feeling himself softening at the horrible memory, “Count your days.”

— ꕥ —

His touch burned you; scorched a long path along the length of your body. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face at the sound of a mewl from you, watching as you pawed at his arm as if you wanted him to stop. He could tell it only made you yearn for more, selfishly aching for the way his fingers dipped deep into your skin. They mapped a trail towards the vertex of your thighs, wandering so close, so close to where you wanted him to be. Cute.

You pressed your face into his neck, sighing the moment you finally felt the pad of his middle finger draw lazy circles over your thrumming clit. 

“Oh god.”

“Should only be moaning my name, hm?” Neteyam muttered against the skin of your shoulder, eyes on the way you parted your legs to give him better access. Such a good girl. Always knew what he wanted from you, and he didn’t even need to ask. 

His arousal laid hard and noticeably thick against your thigh, desperate for attention, but he ignored it. He’d been teasing you for the past ten minutes and couldn’t pull himself away from the cute little sounds that you were making. So enticing, so pathetically cute—fuck. He groaned. He could feel his head cloud with your whimpering and whining, unable to think about anything but fucking you deep until you gave him more of it. Let the entire fucking village hear you screaming his name.

“Neteyam,” you breathlessly called out for him, hips jutting up against his fingers, “I need…I want more.”

“Commanding your future olo’eyktan? Mmm,” he traced his nose over the skin of your throat, grinning against you, “Perhaps you forgot your manners, yawne.”

He replaced his finger with his thumb, moving down to push two digits past your slippery folds, sighing deeply. He felt you immediately clamp down onto his fingers, and had to force himself not to bite into your skin. So soft, so delicate; so pitifully human that if he wasn’t careful, he could really hurt you. Then again, he’d dreamt about marking you with a bite for as long as he could remember. Aside from tsaheylu, biting was a way of bonding with a mate. You didn’t have a queue, so that left marking you. Whether you could handle that or not, he wasn’t sure but he really wanted to fucking try. 

You moaned sweetly next to his ear as he curled his fingers, moving them at a tantalizingly slow pace. 

“Please…”

“Shh,” he cooed, lips against your cheek now, kissing the corner of your lips, “Feel good, yes?”

“Yes, yes fuck yes,” you nodded, fingers baring down onto his arm, hoping to steady yourself. 

His thumb rubbed at your clit, multitasking his fingers in motion. Panting, you curled into him, fixated on your building release. He could tell by the fluttering of your cunt wrapped tightly around his fingers that you were close. He decided that if he were to die right now, he would die a happy man because he wanted to be nowhere but here; with you, knuckle-deep in your pussy, feeling your breath against his lips and eating up the sounds of your little moans. Oh, yes. A sweet death most welcomed, indeed.

Neteyam woke up with a start, breathing heavily and blinking through the darkness of the hut. It was no longer afternoon, but night now. He looked around the room and saw his parents curled up in the corner with Tuk and his baby sister. He groaned to himself, pushing his face into his hands. That was when he noticed how hard he was. 

He fell back onto the cot, staring upwards.

Fuck.

He’d dreamt about you. He’d stopped asking himself why whenever it came to you now because he was realizing that there were going to be things that he just couldn’t control. The more time he allowed to pass by without taking care of this little problem, the more his control was slipping out of his hands, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t a mating expert, but he remembered the things that he was told about it. A bond could only last so long until it started to affect the body and the brain. Especially at its most vulnerable moments. Dreams. Those were something he couldn’t stop. Unless he mated with you, of course, but he wouldn’t do it even if the world was about to end. 

Because of his growing protection over you, he fought with his best friend. He wasn’t sure how Kanu was ever going to forgive him, but Neteyam couldn’t help but wonder. Did the boy have to provoke him like that? Say those nasty things about you? If he was egging him on, it was a bad way to go about it. 

He wondered what you thought about what he said about you.

Did you care at all?

He wondered if you hated him now.

Well, you probably did before but maybe more so now.

Then again, why did he care? If you hated him more, good for him. That meant you’d stay away from him now. Though…he forgot that the bond required the two of you to stay as close to each other as possible and to not go long periods of time being so far away. 

Annoying, wasn’t it?

He sighed. 

Dreaming about fucking you, getting angry and acting out of character because of you. What the hell were you doing to him?

No, he needed to fix this little situation and fast. It wasn’t long before someone figured it all out. Especially Kanu. He was the one to look out for, that was for sure. 

Then there was Seynä. With everything that he had to juggle, he’d forgotten to add her in the mix. She was going to be difficult to move around, but he would have to figure that out too. 

One day at a time, he had to tell himself, one day at a time. 

He grunted before he turned over onto his side, and drew the fur over his shoulder. He needed more sleep. He could use his brain better when he was fully rested. 

Except…he couldn’t seem to bring himself to fall back asleep. Not just yet.

Neteyam blinked before he threw the furs on top of him off to the side. He took a glance at his parents again before he looked down to find his dick curved against the lower part of his stomach, the tip an angry red, coated with his arousal.

"Fuck me," he breathed and wrapped a hand around the base, thighs clenching as he released a husky groan, "Why am I thinking about you," he asked himself, but was of course met with no answer to his question.

Your soft lips, small annoyingly vulnerable body underneath him. Looking up at him like you’d wanted him to touch you. To spread you open, and fuck you slow, deep, swallowing your little moans up with a kiss—fuck, you’d let him. You’d beg, he could see it. Just as clearly as he had when he had you under him. Supple skin, bitten lips, pretty moans and a puffy cunt. He wondered what you looked like down there. The difference in species made his mind run wild with the possibilities. If you were soft in the places he could see, he couldn’t imagine how soft you were down below…

He began to give himself slow, languid strokes to the picture you’d so nicely painted for him.

The moment he woke up all hot and sweaty, he knew what was happening to him. He was in his rut. He didn’t have time to get angry and wonder why the hell it was happening now when it wasn’t even close to time for him to get it, he just needed to take care of it. He felt foolish to think jerking one out would keep him satiated long enough to pass back out again, but he didn’t have another choice. He couldn’t risk leaving the hut. He wasn’t sure where you were, but that proved to be a good thing right now. The bond wasn’t tugging at him so you had to be close by.

He growled. No. He couldn’t think about that either. Anything but that.

His abdomen tightened, running his thumb over the head of his cock, hissing at how sensitive it was. No matter what he did, he couldn't get you off his mind and he blamed it on the lack of tending to his sexual needs as of late. He’d been so busy with training, then you came along. He needed an outlet, and this was usually the perfect way to do it. Well, since he had no other way to do it.

There was always Seynä, of course.

Fuck, he could see her on her knees, desperate to satisfy his every need. He would prefer taking the role of planting himself between her thighs and bringing her enough orgasms to keep her asleep well into the early afternoon, but lately... 

Recently, he’d thought about having that kind of control, but he didn’t want it given to him so easily. No, no no no. Seynä seemed like someone that listened well. Unfortunately, that’d only bore him after a while. He needed fire. Passion. Aggression. A little disrespect so he could fuck that respect back into a person. 

He wanted to give Seynä a chance, but there was clearly something missing if he was able to allow himself to see you in such a light. 

You tested him. Made him truly angry sometimes and more often than not – he wanted to just take you by the neck, and command you to respect him. To give him what he wanted because no one defied him, talked to him the way you did. His looks alone were intimidating enough. There was nothing nor no one he couldn't have but you... You made him work for the simplest things when he was very capable of just taking what he wanted.

However, when it came to your body–

Your body.

God, he wanted to ruin you and didn't care what that meant. Wasn't like he was actually going to pursue you in that way, but one night of thinking such dirty thoughts about you – it wasn't going to change his mind about you. Not in the slightest.

He was just pent up, and you were going to help him.

Even if you were completely clueless to his provocative thoughts and regretful actions. 

Neteyam tugged at his cock before releasing it. He brought his hand up to his mouth and gave the palm a long swipe with his wet tongue, clamping back around his shaft, head falling back against the soft fur under him.

His eyes were closed and he was thinking about your hand replacing his, teasing him with slow strokes until he'd start bucking in your grip, demanding more. The way you'd oblige and even grace him with the feel of your mouth, tongue poking out to slide across the side of his cock, drawing out a long, deep groan.

God, he'd see stars because with your mouth alone, it was enough. If you were as good as he'd need you to be, to stay still and right there, able to fuck your mouth, he'd cum almost immediately. Especially with how hard he was. Balls so painfully tight.

"Fuck," he drew out, his free hand sliding down his abs to his neglected balls, closing a hand around them, giving each a squeeze that made his toes curl a bit. "So close."

He was working at his cock, precum giving his hand an easier time of sliding up and over the bulbous head, causing him to twitch in his grip. 

He wanted to make the moment last, but he couldn't fight off the vicious thoughts of you flooding his mind. The way he wanted to hold you up against whatever surface available and bury his cock in your tight cunt, holding onto you and using you because there was nothing better than giving someone with as much pride as you had a reason to shut the fuck up. God, you talked so much. There were surely better ways to keep your little mouth busy. He thought of a couple. 

Always such a brat with so much to fucking say. Why did you never listen? Why did you like to fight with him about the smallest things? Like he didn't think about taking you by the neck and using your mouth to fill with his cum, forcing you to swallow it. 

What he wouldn't give to teach you a million lessons within just a single night. 

You'd know how to spell 'respect' backwards after he was done. 

With that last thought, he grunted and gave himself one final stroke before he spurted ropes of cum across his chest and stomach. He jerked until he was empty – gloriously empty – and let his arm hit the cot, staring up at the ceiling once more.

For a moment, he laid there in silence, cock still semi hard, his hand covered in cum.

“What am I doing?” He asked himself in a whisper, mind as blank as he felt.

He came to the thought of you, thought of fucking you—it wasn’t right. None of this was. He didn’t deserve to be punished with having you as his mate, forced to find his way out of this. Why him, of all people? What had he done if not everything in eywa’s will? 

Since his brother left, he’d been a model son. Always focused on his training, his duties and taking care of his siblings and helping out in the village. Sure, as he got older, some things stopped but he was present. Everything he did was in thought of his people, of his family. He didn’t have a selfish bone in his body. No. That was Lo’ak. Chose to follow his heart rather than do what he was supposed to do which was mate with a na’vi woman instead of the enemy. That was the only way he and his mother saw it. 

But…here he was. Laying with his cock bare, spent, mind fresh of you. Not even the cool, night air across his naked body could make him realize how similar the path that he was going down was to his brother’s. 

He grunted, and turned over, pulling the fur covering back over his body to shield himself from the sharp ache in his chest that he chose to assume came from being cold. No.

He wasn’t like Lo’ak at all. He was better, smarter and less selfish. 

Neteyam knew what was right and what was wrong. He’d had a moment of weakness. That was all. 

It wouldn’t happen again. Ever.

He squeezed his eyes shut, frowning, as he tried to will himself to fall asleep, rut be damned. He wasn’t weak. He could fight it. He didn’t need anyone to help, less of all, you. Fuck that. He was fine. He just needed rest. That was all.

Though, not even a minute later, he felt himself harden again and he wasn’t even thinking about you this time.

He clenched his teeth, laid there for another moment before he angrily shuffled back onto his back and gripped his cock again.

One more time, he thought, just one more and I’m done.

Slowly, he let the same images of you from before filter back into his mind, biting back a groan as he started to stroke over the head of his cock, pushing down the guilt as he went.

He was going to figure out how to break the bond, and get rid of you for good. Force you back to wherever you came from, and make sure you never came around again. At least, not while he lived, anyway.

That was a promise.

“Fuck,” he stuttered out, licking his lips and bucking his hips into his hand.

Maybe he could do that after he came again to the thought of fucking you into the very cot he was laying on.

Yeah. That would do.

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@powowowy @daydreamerbunny @itzmariaa777 @suntizme @neteyamforlife @blushhpeachh @makeup-stuff-and-such @ilovejakesullysdick @fantasico @iwanttohitmyself @mashiromochi @tpwkstiles @jellybeanstacey0519 @squidalapobre @crazy4books1 @hmt09 @danyxthirstae01 @zoetrope1997 @bajadotcom @maweysworld @filmneteyam @kage-yaa @llearlert @jakesully-sbabygirl @dia-nne @reggiesslut @cerya @coldheartedmar @jdbxws @anxietydrogz @stillinracooncity @kyunasully @liluvtojineteyam @shadytalething @willowpains @itssomeonereading @luvvfromme @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @lordeleviathan @cleverzonkwombatsludge @love13tter @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @dreamtogether2000 @jjkclub @lyramundana @gracefulbumblebee @ricecakeslove @lookiiheh @shadytalething @lovedbychoi

[if you are not tagged but asked, i couldn’t tag you, sryy]

end notes: i know this chapter was long as hell, but i hope you liked it! i can’t promise the next one won’t be this long, but i think i’m going to strive for a little less next time LOL anyway, if you want to continue reading and supporting me, pls reblog, it helps. also, leave some comments, i love knowing what your fav parts were or what made you laugh, sad or upset. even some theories or what you think will happen in the next chapter, something 😩 ty again for all the support, lots of kisses <3

Linnea woke up gasping for breath, the echoes of a child’s laughter still ringing in her ears.

In her dream, everything was green and electric blue. She ran across a carpet of moss that glowed every time her feet touched the ground—a phenomenon of bioluminescence she would never find on Earth’s concrete sidewalks. Beside her, Spider ran nimbly, leaping from giant roots as if gravity didn’t apply to him. They weren’t wearing Exopacks; no masks obscured their faces. The air tasted sweet, filled with the scent of nectar and life.

“Catch me, Linny!” Spider shouted, his voice echoing among the towering trees.

Then, the dream faded. The bright colors were sucked out, replaced by the dull ceiling of her room and the buzzing sound of patrol drones outside the window. Linnea groaned, covering her face with a pillow. It wasn’t just a dream; it was a fragment of memory that continued to haunt her, reminding her that she once had a life so wild and free. That day, Linnea decided not to attend her neuroscience class. To her, the theories about the human brain taught on campus felt too slow and primitive. Her mind had already moved beyond that; she was studying the neural networks of a planet, not just human synapses.

She made her way to the most secluded corner of the university library. There, behind a stack of dusty botany books, she turned on her tablet. Her eyes darted quickly, scanning the RDA recruitment site.

There was a new program: the Specialist Program for Genius Youth. They were looking for young people with above-average intelligence to help “tame” Pandora’s environment. A term that made Linnea’s stomach churn. Tame the environment. They spoke as if that sacred world were a wild animal that needed to be chained.

“I’m a hypocrite,” she whispered to herself.

She hated how the RDA treated Pandora like a resource buffet to be plundered at will. Yet only this evil institution held the key to bringing her home. She had to become part of the machine to destroy it from within—or at least, to find the part of herself left behind there.

After hours of battling the registration algorithm and polishing her academic profile as a future expert in Xeno-botany, Linnea closed her tablet with trembling hands. The first step had been taken.

When she arrived home, the aroma of Aunt Martha’s cooking greeted her, but the atmosphere felt tense. Linnea found Martha tidying the kitchen with stiff movements.

“You’re home late again,” Martha said without turning around.

“I was at the library, Aunt. Studying,” Linnea replied briefly, taking a seat at the dining table. She fell silent for a moment before finally asking, “Aunt Martha… why did Mom put me here? I mean, why did she let me grow up on Earth when she knew I hated every second of it?”

Martha stopped moving. She turned around, looking at her niece with eyes full of weariness. “She wanted you to be safe, Linnea. That world… Pandora… it’s no place for humans. Your mother knew that.”

“But she works there! She loves that world!” Linnea’s voice rose. “I want to go back, Auntie. I’ve already signed up with the RDA.”

Martha’s face paled. “What have you done? No, Linnea! Don’t get involved with those people. They’ll just use you.”

“I’ve been used by the system on Earth ever since I arrived here!” Linnea retorted, her emotions boiling over. “At least there, I can see something real. I can finish Mom’s work!”

A long silence fell. Martha took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping as if a ton of weight had just landed on her. She realized one thing: her niece was too smart, too much like Sarah Vance. Holding her back would only make her rebel even more.

“Sit down,” Martha said softly. She sat down across from Linnea, her eyes fixed intently on her. “There’s something I’ve never told you. I... I almost worked with your mother at the RDA.”

Linnea was stunned. “What?”

“Yes. Back then, Dr. Grace Augustine was very pleased with the two of us. The two Vance sisters in the same lab,” Martha smiled bitterly, reminiscing about the past. “But I left first. I realized working under the RDA would never bring me happiness. They don’t care about science; they care about numbers and profits.”

Martha leaned forward. “And as for the indigenous people there… the Na’vi. Linnea, listen to me carefully. Don’t get too close to them. They may look beautiful, but they’re dangerous. They’ll never consider us part of their people. Don’t let yourself get too attached to something that could kill you in an instant.”

Linnea wanted to protest, wanted to tell her about her dream involving Spider, but she fell silent as Martha stood up and walked over to the old cabinet in the corner of the room. Martha pulled out an old folder covered in a thick layer of dust. She ran her hand sadly over its surface before handing it to Linnea.

“Your mother had an old friend,” Martha said with a weary smile. “She knows how to help you get into the RDA base as a first step. She has enough influence to secure your position as a specialist.”

Linnea accepted the folder as if it were a sacred object. Inside was an address and a name that were unfamiliar yet felt significant.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Linnea whispered.

Martha sighed, stroking her niece’s black hair with a love that stung. “Good luck, Linny. But please… don’t let your curiosity put you in danger. That forest has a way of luring you in, then destroying you.”

Linnea nodded, but in her mind, the forest’s whistling and Spider’s laughter were calling to her louder than ever. Her first steps toward Bridgehead City had just begun.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

On the other side of town, Gisel stood in front of the faculty building with a sour expression. She stared at her phone screen, which kept showing a ringing tone with no answer.

“Damn it, Linnea… where are you?” she muttered under her breath. Gisel let out a long sigh and slipped her phone into her jacket pocket. Skipping today’s neuroscience class was a risky move, especially for someone as obsessed with grades as Linnea.

Gisel opened her tablet briefly, looked at the syllabus for the class that had just ended, then sighed. She tried calling Linnea again, hoping her best friend would at least give a sign of life.

Meanwhile, Linnea paid no attention to the incoming calls. She was racing against time. Her steps were quick, almost a run as she got off the crowded city bus. She immediately hailed a taxi, giving the address written on the old map Aunt Martha had given her. After getting out of the taxi, she had to navigate the narrow, damp alleys that reeked of old concrete. Her mind was in turmoil, filled with despair and bursting with hope.

In the far more magnificent city center stood the RDA headquarters on Earth. Inside the cold, sterile data lab, workers bustled in front of flickering holographic screens. They were processing thousands of applications from new candidates.

“Look at this,” one data analyst muttered to his colleague. “So many young people are applying for the Specialist program in Bridgehead City.”

“Yeah, but not as many as usual. Just thousands, not millions. It seems the news about the war with the Na’vi is starting to scare people,” his colleague replied, sipping his synthetic coffee. Their eyes scanned the digital files, searching for a “genius” crazy enough to be sent to that moon four light-years away.

Gisel walked home alone, her steps feeling heavy. Linnea’s words about “RDA recruitment for young specialists” kept echoing in her head like a broken record.

Gisel grumbled, pulled out her phone, and opened the RDA’s official website. She bit her lower lip as she watched the promotional video showcasing the promised beauty of Pandora—glowing forests and limitless career opportunities.

“Is she really going to go?” Gisel whispered to herself. She sighed deeply. If only she weren’t so afraid of everything about the RDA—about the stories of people returning in coffins or not returning at all—maybe she would apply too. But Gisel knew her limits. That world was too big and too cruel for her.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

After rounding the final corner of the quiet alley, Linnea finally found the address. It was an old house with a wooden door whose paint was peeling. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart before gently knocking on the door.

The door opened slightly. An elderly woman appeared from the crack. Her face was cold and calm, yet her sharp eyes stared at Linnea with suspicion. It was Wendy Stanford.

“Yes? Who are you looking for?” Wendy asked in a flat tone, her eyes narrowing as she took in Linnea’s disheveled appearance from rushing over.

Wendy was about to close the door again, assuming Linnea was just another lost student. However, Linnea quickly held the door open with her hand.

“Wait! I… I’m Sarah Vance’s daughter,” Linnea said quickly. At the sound of that name, Wendy froze. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the calm on her face shattered. She froze as if she had just seen a ghost from the past. Without a word, Wendy grabbed Linnea’s arm and roughly pulled her inside the house, then slammed the door shut.

“Don’t ever mention that name at my doorstep!” Wendy snapped, her voice trembling with sudden rage. “I don’t want anything to do with that cruel past anymore! Sarah is gone, and everything related to The RDA should have been buried with her!”

Linnea stood calmly in the dimly lit living room. She took a deep breath, looking at Wendy with unshakable conviction. “I know it’s painful. But I have no other choice. I have to go back to Pandora. I have to finish what Mother started.”

Wendy was panting; she bit her lip, staring at Linnea as if searching for Sarah’s face in the girl’s features. Finally, her anger subsided, replaced by a deep sense of exhaustion. She sat down on her old sofa, massaging her forehead.

“You’re just as stubborn as your mother,” Wendy whispered bitterly. She stared at Linnea for a long time before finally reaching out her hand. “Give me your tablet. Let me see what information you have and how serious you are about signing up for that RDA base.”

Linnea handed over her tablet with a steady hand, knowing that in this woman’s hands, her path to The Green World would truly open up.

Wendy stared silently at the tablet screen, the blue light from the digital device reflecting off the lenses of her old glasses. Her wrinkled fingers swiped across the screen, reading line by line about Linnea’s academic achievements. Slowly, a faint—almost imperceptible—smile appeared at the corner of her lips as she saw the major the girl had chosen: Xeno-Botany & Neuroecology.

“You’ve chosen a difficult path, Linnea,” Wendy murmured, her voice now softening, losing the sharpness she’d shown at the door. “Most scientists only care about what they can harvest or dig up. But you… you want to know how the forest communicates. You want to talk to Atokirina.”

Wendy set the tablet on the table, then stood up slowly. She walked to her small kitchen, leaving Linnea in the silence of the living room, which was filled with the scent of old paper. Shortly afterward, she returned with a tray holding two steaming cups of tea and a few pieces of shortbread.

“Your mother, Sarah... she was the smartest person I ever knew at the RDA,” Wendy said as she poured the tea. “She was so meticulous in her work, so thorough, but she also had a heart that was too big for a place as cruel as that. She cared about every sample she took, as if the plants could feel pain.”

Wendy sipped her tea, her eyes gazing into the distance. “She was also the one who taught me about the Na’vi. She didn’t see them as primitive indigenous people. She saw them as protectors. She admired the way they lived, how they defended every inch of their land with their lives. They aren’t just warriors, Linnea; they are part of the planet’s nervous system itself.”

Wendy’s gaze returned to Linnea. She looked intently into the girl’s hazel eyes—eyes so much like Sarah’s.

“Your mother sacrificed everything for this work. She pushed herself to the limit, giving her life to keep Pandora’s secrets safe, and so that you could have a future,” Wendy’s voice grew heavy. “Seeing you now… it feels like seeing Sarah’s ghost. But I have to warn you one thing: Don’t fall too deep into Pandora. The forest is incredibly beautiful, but its beauty is a trap. If you’re not careful, you’ll lose yourself there, just like your mother did.”

Wendy took a deep breath, trying to shake off the sadness that was beginning to creep in. She leaned forward, her expression turning serious again.

“How long can you wait before going to the RDA base?” Wendy asked suddenly. “I still have connections. My former position at the RDA carried some weight, and I know how to pull a few strings to get your application prioritized. With your intelligence and my recommendation, that Young Specialist position will be yours sooner than you think.”

Linnea felt her heart racing. The hope that had nearly faded was now reigniting.

“I’m ready to go anytime, Wendy,” Linnea replied with an unwavering tone.

Wendy gave a small nod, her weary smile reappearing. “All right. I’ll help. But remember, Linnea Silva… once you set foot on that plane, there’s no turning back. You’ll be entering the dragon’s lair.”

Wendy slowly pulled a thick folder out of the drawer under her coffee table. Unlike the one Aunt Martha had given her, this folder wasn’t dusty; it was a constantly updated document, covered in “Classified” stamps.

“You need to know who you’re up against there,” Wendy whispered, her voice sounding like a warning from beyond the grave. She handed over several sheets of RDA personnel profiles. “Many of them are power-hungry demons. And the most dangerous one… is him.”

Wendy’s finger pointed at a profile photo. Linnea furrowed her brow. She recognized the name from history books and her mother’s stories. “Miles Quaritch? Didn’t he die in the first war?”

“Biologically, yes,” Wendy smiled cynically. “But the RDA found a way to bring his memories and personality back into an artificial Na’vi body. He is now a Recombinant—or a Recom. He leads an elite force of blue-skinned soldiers, but inside, he’s still the same monster.”

Wendy looked at Linnea seriously. “Turn around if you see him. Keep your distance from people like him and the military brass in Bridgehead City. They won’t hesitate to destroy you if you get in their way.”

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Wendy then stood up, grinning slightly at the tense expression on Linnea’s face. “Come back here tomorrow morning. I’ll take you straight to the RDA base in downtown to show you around the building before you officially enlist. Think of it as an exclusive tour.”

Linnea felt her heart pounding, as if it wanted to leap out of her chest. The tension, the madness of the situation, and the fact that her dream was now just a few steps away made it almost impossible for her to breathe.

Night had fallen by the time Linnea arrived at her aunt’s house. Martha was already waiting in the living room, her face etched with suppressed anxiety. However, upon seeing Linnea walk in with a pale face and eyes burning with determination, Martha chose to remain silent. She simply greeted her niece with a small nod before letting Linnea go up to her room. Martha knew there were no words left that could stop the girl.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Linnea’s phone kept vibrating nonstop. Gisel was bombarding her with messages—ranging from angry ones about being left behind, to desperate, worried ones.

“Linnea! Reply to me! Where are you?” “Did you really go to that RDA place?” “Lin, please don’t do anything stupid.”

Gisel sighed in her room, tossing her phone onto the bed. She opened her laptop and read old articles about the RDA’s atrocities on Pandora. A whirlwind of emotions swirled in her chest; she was afraid of losing her best friend, but at the same time, she began to wonder what Linnea had actually seen there.

Linnea couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed, but her eyes kept returning to the documents Wendy had given her, illuminated by the dim light of the desk lamp. She read every detail about Bridgehead City, about the cryosleep procedure, and the requirements for the Young Specialists.

She reviewed everything she had included in her application form—her ability to map neural pathways and her obsession with plant communication. Tomorrow was the big day. The day she would step out of the “Gray World” and officially begin her journey to The Green World.

You settle back in your seat, and begin to look at the rocks in the water. Analyzing them, and making mental notes. You regret not having brought your pencil (which was made of wood and charcoal). You can hear several Na'vi approaching. Most of them were women with their children, sitting on the edge to clean some fruits with the fresh water and some fish. You liked being in this place, you liked the sea and everything to do with it. You see a few women greet you, and you return the gesture. The clan was kind to you, after meeting you they became more open to you. You were grateful that they were so friendly with your presence. Enjoying the scenery, you can see that the creek is spreading out beyond the wooded area. You knew you should not leave this place, neteyam would be coming for you soon. And you knew your father didn't like you wandering around unsupervised. According to Jake, the Pandora Seas were too dangerous for you. But you weren't going to go far…just a little.

You get up from the ground, and follow the water current. Entering the wet jungle, while walking and jumping on the rocks. You stay like this for at least 10 minutes, glancing back. You see that you have wandered too far. So you decide to stop walking, sitting on the side of the creek, to take a look at the new rocks that now reflected from the depth. They were so beautiful, with different colors and shapes. You had to have several for your collection and others to make new pieces of clothing with kiri and tuk. You hear how several branches move, and you become alert. Watching as out of the bushes come the group of metkayina men who were always having some trouble with you. "Look what we have here" says one of them. Approaching, while the others followed him. "Hello" you speak up, you were never a spoiled girl. So you wave at him, and decide to keep looking and picking up your rocks. "Hey…what are you doing here all alone?" the man kneels down, to be closer to you. "I'm not alone, I'm with my brother" you speak up, sitting up straighter to confront them.

"Really? I don't see anyone here" the man signals with his hands. Looking at his friends, as they laughed evilly. You felt nervous, you were so scared. "I should get back…goodbye" you start to get up from the ground, but you feel one of them grab your arm. Causing you to sit up suddenly, you groan in pain. "Tell me…what do you have here?" one of the men, takes the notebook you were holding in your hands. "Give me that…that's important to me" you shout, getting up from the ground, trying to take the object from his hands. But this was useless, you were too small compared to them. "Do you want it back?" speaks the na'vi who was the leader of the group. "Yes, please" you speak, lowering your hands to now place them on your chest. "If you want it back, you have to bend down on the ground…just for curiosity" says the man. Your eyes widen. "For what?" you speak, but you see how they all laugh. And he pulls you close. "We're curious about you…mmm why don't you do us that favor and let us see what your cute little cunt looks like" the man speaks cheekily.

You can feel your heartbeat quicken, you could feel your stomach churning. You were aware that your body was curious to the na'vi. But this was something that was not right, you knew. All the alarms in your body were on fire, as you wished neteyam was here. Your eyes began to fill with tears, as you watched those na'vi boys waiting for your answer with a smile on their face. "N…no, please give me back my notebook…I won't do anything" you scream a little, but it sounds more like a cry of desperation. "Well…if you don't" says the boy holding the notebook in his hand, holding it close to the water. Making the gesture as if he's going to drop it. You reach over, hopping a little to grab it. "Ah, ah, ah, ah on the ground…and then the notebook" the man speaks, you move a little away.

The noises of the argument had caught the attention of ao'nung, who had gone for a ride with his ilu, in an attempt to distract himself from his labors. He had left his ilu at the other end of the island, while he walked and explored the small island. Not 10 minutes had passed, when he heard your voice. He knew her very well… he spent a lot of time with the Sully family. And as strange as it sounds… he had memorized all the tones of voice that came out of your mouth. He becomes alert, when he can sense a hint of desperation in your tone, so he decides to look for where it's coming from. Walking slowly, he arrives at your location. He slowly approaches and realizes that you are not alone. He makes a face of annoyance, when he hears the voice of the group of men. "They have nothing better to do," thinks ao'nung to himself, as he glances through some bushes.

He is very surprised, with the scene that his eyes had found. You were on the ground, on all fours. With your head pressed tightly to the ground. While one of the men held you in place, with one foot on your back. "Ok… why don't you help us and move the cloth to see you completely" says the man. This makes ao'nung furious, who without thinking comes out of his hiding place. All of them, noticing the presence of the future clan leader, move away from you. You collapse on the ground, feeling pain in your back and face. "What the hell is going on here!!!" shouts ao'nung, pushing one of the men. With such force that he was left sitting on the ground, hitting his head on a tree trunk. "I'm sorry…it's " tries to apologize to one of the group men.

"I want you to get the hell out of here!!!! Because if I don't I swear" before ao'nung could finish, the group of men had run out of the place. One of them threw the notebook in your direction, running away in fear. After standing still in place, furious. Ao'nung turns in your direction. He sees that you were sitting, seeing if you had any wounds on your knees. "Y/N…are you okay?" says ao'nung approaching you. You look up, revealing a tear-stained face. The boy brings his hand up to your face, to wipe it a little. "I'm sorry…I promise you that as soon as I get to the village I will take care of them. This will not stay like this" says ao'nung trying to comfort you. But he sees that this does not cheer you up. He knows how sad you must feel. You were the butt of these idiots' jokes, and they are already going too far with you. "Are you feeling okay?" ao'nung now sits down next to you. He sees how in your hands you hold some sort of notebook. He recognized it right away…it's that thing you always carry with you.

"It's been damaged…it's almost destroyed" you speak, moving some pages of your notebook. Which was wet. When they threw it on the ground, it had fallen near the water. You tried to pick it up, but it was too late. "But…Y/N. You were willing to let them hurt you for this thing" says ao'nung, touching the cover of the notebook with his finger. You look up somewhat annoyed. "This isn't just a thing…this belonged to my mom. She had her whole life here…what she had done and discovered in Pandora. This is important to me…this brings me closer to her." You cry, as you hug the notebook to your chest. Ao'nung decides to say nothing, and respects your space. Letting you cry and vent for a while. After a while…he comes closer to you. Stroking your hair, he wraps his hand around your shoulder so that you lie on his chest. He can notice, how your crying gets louder. And decides to hug you.

" Calm down" he says with a gentle tone. He feels you pull away a little, "Thank you for helping me…I was so scared" ao'nung can see your puffy eyes, and your pink cheeks. "You're welcome…and I'm sorry you had to go through that…but you shouldn't risk yourself like that. It's dangerous," says ao'nung, stroking your arm with his hand. Holding you in place, on your chest. "I know…but look" you move away a little, but not so much as to break the physical contact you had now. He can watch as you search through the pages. "See this?" you hold up the notebook so he can get a better look. It was a drawing of an aquatic flower, it was red with blue. He couldn't see it in detail, because the paint had begun to fade. "Mom wrote here that it is a flower that only grows in the deep sea" he sees as you drop your head on his chest. You sigh, as you wipe away a few tears. "How I wish I could see one… in this notebook is everything I want to be someday" you speak. Ao'nung enjoyed the moment, he liked listening to you talk about your dreams. "They are syulangs, they grow the depths and then they can live anywhere. They generate a kind of oil, it is good for the skin and has a very good smell" says Ao'nung, lowering his gaze. Noticing how your eyes widen. "Have you seen them?" you ask, at this point you had turned away from him. Taking his face in your hands, bringing your face closer to his. You were now inches apart, and ao'nung was getting nervous. You had never been so close to him.

He had never analyzed your beautiful features. You were strange…but beautiful at the same time. His tail began to wag back and forth. He didn't know what you were talking about, you kept on talking while he was unmoved watching, how you talked, moved your hands. Even how your nose wrinkled, every time you raised your arms. "Ao'nung…can you take me to see them?" you ask, now you had caught his full attention. "Ahhh yes…sure" the boy says. Feeling you hug him by the neck. "Ahhh thank you" you speak, now sounding calmer. He hugs you back, closing his eyes. They stay like that for a while, until you hear your brother's voice. "Y/N!!!" neteyam shouts.

"I'm here!!!" you shout back, watching as your brother emerges from the bushes. You pick yourself up off the ground, moving away from ao'nung. The boy stands with empty arms, watching as you run to your brother hugging him. "Where were you? Are you okay?" asks neteyam, making you turn around, checking for injuries. He can tell, your knees are a little scraped. "And this?" says neteyam, taking your leg in the air to get a better look. "Nete be careful !!!!" you shout, sometimes your brother could forget that you were very small compared to him. "I'm fine… don't worry" you speak. But you see how ao'nung approaches you. "That group of men were bothering her…but I was able to get there in time" says ao'nung. Neteyam thanks him, he had a long time defending his sister from those idiots. It was not an easy task. "Well…I think we'd better go home" says neteyam, taking your hand. He had noticed the looks ao'nung was giving you. "Yes please..I want to rest" you speak, moving closer to give ao'nung one last hug. hugging his hand tightly. "Again…thank you. See you later "you speak, pulling away from the boy.

A few minutes after you had left, au'nung decided to return to his ilu. But just as he took the first step, he noticed that you had left your notebook on the floor. He picked it up, and noticed that it was open at the page where the flower was drawn. He chuckled a little to himself, remembering with excitement that you told him everything. This little object was so important to you, you could give your life for it. It seemed silly to him, so he looked through the pages more. And he found a picture, in it appeared a woman with red hair, two men and other women. It had some words written in Na'vi, which said 'family' or 'my family'. Right next to that picture, there was another one…where you could see all the members of the family. But they were all small. Ao'nung looked at it with curiosity. So this was what you protected so much…you were adorable.

The night came, and as it was obvious. Neteyam had to tell her father what had happened. He couldn't help it, as soon as you entered the marui. Your mother saw that your knees were bleeding. So while you sat there watching your mother heal your wounds, you listened as your father scolded Neteyam. "I told you not to go away from her…if you go to the water. Your sister goes with you, otherwise you stay by her side" jake is a little upset. "Something serious could have happened" jake yells. "But it didn't happen…dad calm down" you speak from the other side of marui. You hadn't told anyone about what really happened to you and the disgusting comments those men said. You knew your father would do something crazy, and you didn't want to cause trouble. After a while, everyone is quiet going about their own business. You were playing with tuk, when you hear a tapping at the entrance of the marui.

Ao'nung was there, holding a basket full of flowers syulangs. The boy peeked his head to the side, meeting your eyes. He could see, how your eyes lit up. "Ahhh…mmm I brought something for Y/N" says ao'nung, you could feel the nervousness in his voice. You get up from the ground, and walk quickly to him. Everyone in the family looked at each other they were a little confused, but lo'ak's giggles could be heard. "Shhh shut up" you gesture to your brother to shut up. Moving closer to ao'nung, you both step further out of the marui, for some privacy. "Where? You brought them for…" you were interrupted when ao'nung put the basket down. "For you…I got them for you," says the boy. You put a hand to your mouth, you are surprised and grateful. No one has ever made this gesture to you…no one. "I'm sorry about what happened this afternoon… I'm sorry you didn't feel comfortable, I know it's hard to be you in this clan, but I want you to know" says ao'nung, taking your hands, to give them a little squeeze. "That I see you," says ao'nung. He could see how flushed you were getting. "Are you okay?" asks the boy, watching as you bend over and take the basket in your hands. And you run off to your marui. "Y/N wait!!! Your notebook!!!" yells ao'nung.

Lo'ak sat on the woven mat by the marui pot while Tsireya's laughter filled his ears. She leaned in closer, her teal form brushing against his side, the warmth of her skin a gentle press through his thin armband. Her omega scent wrapped around him, it was sweet like ripe ilu fruit mixed with the salty tang of the ocean and it flooded his nostrils.

Several moons had passed since his family sought uturu among the Metkayina. He and his family were learning their ways, swimming with the ilu and breathing the water like it's air. Most would say his mother or Neteyam aches for Omatikaya the deepest but it was him. The forest calls in his blood, the vines and the ikran cries along with the life he left there.

But what choice does he have? Move on or drown in what he's lost.

Tsireya's giggles filled his ears again as she shifted, her shoulder nudging his with playful intent.

He remembered that first day of their ikran touching down on the shore after days of endless flight, the chaos swirling with the clan's wary eyes. Then she rose from the waves like a vision, water sluicing off her curves.

Beautiful yeah, an omega through and through.

Her face was softer than the fierce Omatikaya women he's used to, rounded cheeks and wide eyes framed by those intricate Metkayina patterns. Shy smiles given just for him and not his perfect golden brother beside him. She was everything an alpha could want in a mate.

But she wasn't you.

Lo'ak's gaze drifted out to the horizon, his mind pulling him back to the Hometree's forest edge, to the little tawtute who'd stolen his rutting heart without even trying. You, the omega tawtute who turned him away every damn time. Your scent haunting him like a fever dream, so potent it made his fangs ache even now.

He could still picture the day you stumbled into Omatikaya territory, your exopack fogging with ragged breaths, that sleek RDA gear clinging to your fuller frame like a second skin. You'd sought his father, your voice steady despite the fear flickering in those wide expressive eyes. You admitted you were one of them, the RDA. You were polished to hunt, to kill the traitor and his family.

But the fire in you burned for something else now.

Tears had streaked your cheeks as you played that stolen recording for Jake, your father's voice crackling through the device. He was a scientist, once loyal to the RDA but had help Jake slip the RDA's noose, rejecting his own people's greed. He helped his closest friend and was killed for it. They silenced him to claim his legacy and to remove a traitor in the RDA base.

And you? Just five, small and malleable, molded into their weapon as payment for your father's sins. Years of training to be a killing machine and you were damn good at it. Not until you had stumbled upon that recording and it broke everything you stand for. Since that day, it has become days of escape and trekking through Pandora's wilds, anything to flee the base that reeked of your father's demise.

It was your scent that hit Lo'ak first when you crossed into the clan's borders. It was delicious and intoxicating, wrapping around his alpha instincts so strongly. He'd been around plenty of omegas, their floral notes teasing but forgettable.

Yours?

It punched through him, it made his cock twitch and his mind flood with filthy visions of pinning you down and burying his face in that soft fuller body of yours.

Jake had taken you in, guilt carving deep lines into his face when he learned you were his old friend's daughter. The weight of that debt bound him still and he gave you a place in the Omatikaya.

You adapted quick like Spider. You traded guns for bows, your combat skills turning heads during hunts even if you were a tawtute. You were the prettiest face he'd ever seen, all soft angles and full lips that begged to be claimed, your curves straining against those human clothes in ways that drove him mad.

Spider had joked once with eyes wide and playful. "Back on Earth? She'd be a star, bro. Headlines, red carpets, the works."

But Lo'ak didn't give a shit about Earth. He wanted you here, under him, your slick coating his fingers as he worked you open. He knew the barriers though. Your human physiology, no kuru for tsaheylu and that tiny frame dwarfed by his massive Na'vi build.

Fucking you proper?

Near impossible without breaking you but Eywa the thought of it... his cock hardening at the edge of your heat, rutting against your thighs, marking you with his seed until you reeked of him. You'd satisfy him too, those clever hands and that sharp mouth drawing out his growls.

A soft touch on his arm yanked him back to reality, Tsireya's eyes sparkled with curiosity as her fingers lingered on his bicep.

"Lo'ak? You're far away again." She murmured, voice like a gentle current as her blush deepened, tucking a strand of curls behind her ear.

He forced a grin leaning in to nuzzle her head lightly as he pictured it was you in her place to get through the act, scenting her out of habit he developed from you, her omega sweetness blooming under his touch.

"Just thinking about the reef and the life here, Reya." His words were smooth, alpha charm laced with intent to coax her but inside his thoughts snarled back to you.

He remembered when he found you by the communal fire. The clan had gathered for a shared meal, you sat apart, your fuller hips shifting on the log as you sharpened a knife. Your movements precise, muscles flexing under sun-kissed skin that glowed warmer than the Omatikaya people around you. That pretty face of yours caught the firelight, lips pursed in concentration, a stray hair escaping your braid to frame your cheek.

His alpha instincts roared as your scent hit him across the flames, your body responding to the alpha scents around you even if you fought it. Lo'ak sauntered over, dropping down beside you with casual grace, his tail brushing your leg “accidentally.”

"Sharp as ever tawtute." He rumbled, voice low and rough, eyes tracing the swell of your breasts beneath your fitted top. "Bet you could pin me down with that thing. Or maybe you'd rather use those hands for something... bigger."

You glanced up, your eyes narrowing with that familiar mix of wariness and fire but he caught the subtle hitch in your breath and the way your thighs pressed together.

There it is, that slick starting to gather, calling to me.

He leaned closer inhaling deeply, letting his own alpha musk wash over you in a subtle claim.

"Back off, Lo'ak." You said firmly, though your voice wavered just a touch, cheeks flushing as you sheathed the blade. Your fuller body tensed, curves shifting enticingly but you scooted away, rejecting the heat building between you. "I'm not some prize for you to sniff around. Go chase Na'vi women."

He chuckled dark and hungry, not backing down yet. His hand ghosted near your thigh, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from your core. "That scent of yours is the one that drives me insane. Imagine it, me knotting up against you, filling you with my knot until you're dripping for me."

The words were lewd and whispered like a promise, his fangs grazing his lip as he pictured your slick-coated folds clenching around his fingers, your cries echoing in the night.

Your rejection came swift, a shove to his chest that barely budged him but the spark in your eyes betrayed the pull. "No. I told you before I don't need an alpha. Find someone who wants your... attention."

You stood hips swaying as you walked away leaving him hard and aching, your scent lingering like a taunt.

Lo'ak watched you go, desire coiling tighter in his gut.

She refuses me now but I'll wear her down. That body, that scent, it's mine.

Lo'ak's claws dug into the soft sand as the rhythmic crash of waves does little to drown out the ghosts in his mind and the memories of you. Tsireya's hand rested lightly on his shoulder, her touch warm and inviting but it felt like a hollow echo compared to the fire you'd ignited in him.

Months here and still the reef can't wash you away. His family pushed him towards Tsireya, Neteyam with knowing glances and Jake with gruff nods of approval, anything just to help him move on from the past. Move on they said but Eywa how could he? Your scent lingered in his nostrils like a curse, that honeyed vanilla twisted with the sharp bite of your slick pulling him back to the forest's embrace even if he was at the ocean now.

He remembered the days in Omatikaya, how he'd hunt you out like prey, your presence a magnet to his alpha core. You'd weave through the clan's edges, that fuller silhouette cutting through the underbrush, your skin glistening with a sheen of sweat from training sessions that honed your lethal grace. No one ventured to the hidden glade beyond the waterfall, a forgotten nook where vines draped like curtains but he'd found you there once, curled up in exhausted sleep after a long hunt.

Your body lay sprawled on the mossy bed, limbs lax and inviting, the curve of your waist dipping into the generous swell of your hips that strained against your worn shorts. Breaths came soft and even, your chest rising in gentle swells beneath the thin tank top, nipples pebbling faintly in the cool mist.

Vulnerable, so damn vulnerable. An omega's form laid bare for any prowling alpha like him to claim.

"Lo'ak." You mewled in your sleep, clearly displaying your interest for him despite your usual rejections.

Fuck, is she dreaming about me?

Lo'ak's pulse thundered as he approached, his nostrils flaring at the thick wave of your musky arousal, slick already seeping through the fabric between your thighs. He knelt, hands trembling with restraint as he parted your legs slowly, the heat radiating from your core slamming into him like a storm.

Fuck, smells so good.

He groaned inwardly, leaning in until his nose brushed the damp crotch of your shorts. Inhaling deep, he let your essence flood him, a sweet nectar laced with raw need it made his head spin. His cock throbbing painfully against his loincloth as he got drunk on it, his breaths ragged and desperate.

Unable to stop himself, his tongue darted out tracing the outline of your folds through the thin barrier, the salty tang bursting on his taste buds. He was perverted, he fucking knew it. He was licking at your clothed pussy while you slumbered but the filth of it only fueled his obsession, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you open as he lapped greedily.

You stirred then, a soft mewl escaping your lips as awareness bloomed, your nose twitching at the overwhelming crash of his alpha musk, smoky pine and dominant heat flooding your senses. Instinct took over as your hips bucked up instinctively, grinding your soaked core against his eager mouth, your slick soaking through to coat his rough tongue.

Lo'ak had grinned against you, yanking the shorts aside just enough to devour you properly. His tongue plunged into your folds, swirling over your swollen clit with rough insistent strokes, savoring the gush of your arousal as you arched, fingers tangling in his braids.

My little tawtute.

He thought sucking hard until your thighs quivered around his head, your cries muffled by the waterfall's roar.

After that stolen moment, you'd both tumbled into a heated agreement. Friends with benefits, nothing more, your eyes fierce as you laid down the rules.

"No claiming, no bonds. You're not my alpha." You whispered, voice husky from the aftershocks, your fuller breasts heaving with each pant. "Just this. I won't be your omega, Lo'ak."

He'd nodded, all easy smiles on the surface but inside? He was fucking thirsty for every scrap you offered knowing he'd erode your walls until you begged for his knot. It didn't matter if you reject him now because soon you'd be his.

Neteyam had caught it first, nostrils flaring during a hunt, his golden eyes narrowing at Lo'ak with a mix of amusement and warning.

"You've been marking her good, skxawng." He muttered, voice low and teasing.

Spider smirked beside him, elbowing Lo'ak. "Dude, she reeks of you like everywhere."

Lo'ak's chest had swelled with smug pride, the thought of his scent clinging to your skin a ward against rival alphas in a subtle brand that screamed his.

Those stolen encounters blurred into a haze of raw hunger, each one etching you deeper into his soul.

The first memory that haunted him now was of that late night in your shared alcove, the clan's fires dimming outside. You'd pushed him against the woven wall, your hands bold as they slipped under his tewng, palming his aching length through the fabric.

"Quiet." You hissed, eyes dark with lust, your tongue flicking out to trace his ear while your fingers squeezed, drawing a guttural growl from his throat.

He'd retaliated by shoving your top up, mouth latching onto one pert nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as you whimpered, your free hand fisting his hair. Slick dripped down your thighs, the air thick with your mingled scents, his alpha instincts snarling to rut against you until you yielded but he held back, letting your strokes milk pre-cum from his tip, your thumb circling the slit with wicked precision.

Another time during a rain-soaked patrol, thunder masked your gasps as he pinned you to a massive tree trunk. Water cascaded over your curves plastering clothes to your body, highlighting the lush dip of your cleavage and the flare of your ass.

"Lo'ak, fuck." You moaned, legs wrapping around his waist as he ground his hips forward, his bulge nestling against your soaked heat.

No penetration, just the torturous slide of fabric on fabric. His hands kneading your plush ass while you rocked, your clit throbbing against the ridge of his cock. He'd buried his face in your neck, fangs scraping skin as he scented you deeply. Your omega purr vibrating through him, body clenching in waves of near-release.

Then came the evening by the river, the moonlight silvering your skin as you knelt before him, that pretty mouth of yours hovering inches from his straining erection.

"Your turn to beg." You teased, voice sultry and challenging, breath ghosting over his flushed length.

Lo'ak's hands shook as he guided you closer, your lips parting to take him in shallowly, tongue swirling the head with expert flicks that made stars burst behind his eyes. He thrusted shallowly, careful not to overwhelm your human limits while his fingers delved between your legs, two digits curling into your dripping channel, thumb pressing your clit until you hollowed your cheeks around him. Both of you teetering on the edge in a symphony of wet sounds and stifled cries.

One dawn hidden in the hollow of an ancient tree, your body arched beneath his as he feasted between your thighs again. This time you were awake and demanding, legs splayed wide, your fingers spreading yourself open for his view. Pink and glistening, clit peeking swollen and needy.

"Taste me." You commanded, voice breathy with command and he'd obeyed, broad tongue laving from your entrance to your bud, sucking until your hips jerked and flooding his mouth with fresh slick.

His own hand pumped his cock in rhythm, the lewd squelch of your arousal mixing with his grunts, your nails raking his scalp as orgasm ripped through you leaving him spilling over his fist with your name on his lips.

The last memory burned hottest. It was a heated tangle in the undergrowth after sparring, your combat-honed body slick with exertion, muscles taut under soft flesh. You'd straddled his lap, grinding down with deliberate rolls, your heat enveloping the bulge of his massive through layers of cloth.

"Feel that?" You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, breasts bouncing with each motion as friction built a blaze between you.

Lo'ak's hands roamed your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your mounds, pinching nipples until they hardened like pebbles. His alpha pheromones surged, your omega response drenching you further, the air electric with unspoken claims.

Close, so close to breaking your rules, to flipping you and sealing you as his.

He'd been this close to making you his omega, your resistances crumbling under the weight of shared nights, your scent forever altered by his touch but then the RDA struck. The skies darkening with their demon weapons, gunfire shattering the peace. Chaos erupted and Na'vi war cries mingling with the roar of ikran was heard.

Lo'ak had fought like hell but his eyes locked on you across the fray. You, dodging blasts with that honed agility, your gun barking in retaliation.

The shot came from nowhere, a sniper's cruel precision.

It tore through your side, blood blooming dark against your gear, your fuller form crumpling to the earth. Time slowed as you hit the ground, eyes wide with shock, life ebbing from your small human body in shallow faltering breaths.

"Lo'ak..." You whispered voice fading, hand reaching out as crimson pooled beneath you.

Feral rage consumed him. He became a whirlwind of death, hands rending flesh, dagger sinking into throats as he tore through the soldiers brutally and unrelenting, their screams fuel to his grief. He couldn't save you but vengeance? That he claimed, bodies piling in his wake until the attackers fled or fell from his fury and despair.

It was quiet after, the clan's silence heavy as he carried your still form to a secluded grove, digging the earth with his bare hands, tears carving tracks through the blood on his face. His family knew, Jake's hand on his shoulder and Neytiri's soft keening. They understood the depth of your bond, unspoken but profound. He buried you there, under a canopy of glowing vines, a piece of his soul interred with you.

They fled Omatikaya soon after, safety demanding the flight to Metkayina's waters. Leaving behind the home where he'd met you, loved you in shadows, and lost you to the sky-people's greed. Months stretched on, the ache a constant companion and sharper than any wound.

Now with Tsireya's giggles resounding, Lo'ak stared at the stars with his heart fracturing anew.

He tries for his family as he feigned the desire to mate with another but you... Eywa, it's hard to let go even in death. Your ghost clung to his being, your omega scent still the one he seeks, a phantom ache pulling him under once more.

The ocean churned below the hulking Sea Dragon ship, its metal belly groaning under the weight of RDA machinery and malice.

Lo’ak's heart hammered as he surfaced from the depths, Payakan's massive form gliding away into safer waters. He'd ripped the tracker from his bonded tulkun's flesh, the device crunching in his fist like brittle bone and barked the warning into the comms.

"Sir, RDA's here. They are nearby now and—" Static cut him off as shouts erupted from the ship above.

His siblings and Tsireya had tailed him despite his snarls to stay back, their ilu slicing through the waves in reckless pursuit. Now as they hauled onto the platform, Quaritch's shadow loomed. Impossibly alive, his Na'vi form a twisted mockery of blue skin and yellow eyes. He remembered the clips of him that Norm had shown him and Spider back in the labs before.

Mother swore she ended him.

Lo’ak thought as bile rose in his throat, the shock freezing him mid-step.

Quaritch’s rifle snapped up and chaos swallowed them. Neteyam diving into the sea escaping but him, Tsireya, and little Tuk was snared in the net of the soldiers' grips.

Tsireya's scent hit him first. An omega in distress, her body trembling against his side as they were dragged aboard. Tuk whimpered, her small frame pressed to his leg, wide eyes brimming with fear. Lo’ak's alpha instincts roared to shield them, to tear free and sink fangs into throats but cold steel kissed his temple.

"Easy, boy. Wouldn't want to paint the deck with your brains." Quaritch's voice a gravelly drawl as he smiled cockily.

He strained against the ties, nostrils flaring at the metallic tang of fear-sweat mingling with Tsireya and Tuk's fear. The ship's corridors blurred in a haze of alarms and barked orders until the viewport revealed the Metkayina fleet closing in. His father’s ikran leading the charge and warriors streaking like arrows on their ilus. Quaritch and the other recom soldiers immediately got distracted that left an opportunity for their escape.

Neteyam burst through the fray moments later, a ghost of precision, slicing bonds with his knife and dropping guards in silent takedowns.

"Go!" He hissed, urgency etching his sharp jawline, golden eyes alert.

Lo’ak shoved Tsireya and Tuk toward the railing, the ocean's foam calling below. "Jump and swim fast!"

Tsireya hesitated, her hand brushing his with a desperate squeeze, her scent spiking with worry but she nodded, scooping Tuk into her arms and leaping into the abyss, their splashes lost in the din.

Lo’ak snatched a fallen rifle, the stock cool against his palm, grip tightening as resolve burned.

"Not leaving without Spider." He growled to Neteyam who masked a sigh with a nod.

They prowled the bowels of the beast-ship, shadows among crates, Lo’ak's tail lashing as they ambushed the guards. Neteyam's blade flashing across a throat, Lo’ak's rifle butt cracking a skull with a wet thud.

Spider huddled in his cell, human frailty stark under the lights but his eyes lit with relief. "Guys!"

Neteyam yanked the door, snatching a sidearm. "Move, now!"

They bolted with their breaths ragged, the ship's alarms wailing like wounded banshees. Freedom beckoned at the edge, the jump to the waves a heartbeat away when a silhouette blocked the hatch, rifle leveled and stance coiled like a predator's.

Lo’ak's nose twitched, a jolt ripping through him. That scent, honeyed vanilla laced with slick's primal edge, that familiar omega essence that clawed at his core like hooks from the grave.

Impossible.

The figure stepped into the flickering emergency lights, a tall female Na'vi, her azure skin stretched over curves that echoed your human fullness but amplified. Broader hips swaying with lethal grace, breasts straining against tactical webbing, tail flicking with tension.

Her face... Eywa, it was yours, translated to Na'vi perfection.

"Move and I shoot." You snarled, voice a husky whip-crack, rifle steady, your tail flicking from the adrenaline's pulse.

"(Y/N)?" Lo’ak's voice cracked, raw shock flooding him, his body going rigid as memories crashed of your human bloodied form in his arms and the life fading from those eyes.

Your brow furrowed, grip tightening on the weapon, confusion flickering across your features like shadows on water. "How do you know my name?"

Reeling, his obsession surged back ten times stronger, a tidal wave drowning his doubt. You were revived like Quaritch. Even if you had gone rogue, you were still the RDA's prized soldier and they had pulled you from death's jaws into this created body, just without the memories of him and your life in Omatikaya it seems.

But it was no problem, this was his second chance, his alpha blood sang for it. His cock twitching traitorously at your scent's assault, visions of claiming you anew flashing hot and unbidden especially now that your Na'vi body can take his cock and a kuru to make tsaheylu with.

"How could an alpha forget his own omega?" Lo’ak murmured, the lie slipping smooth and laced with dark hunger.

His gaze raked your form, the way your thighs flexed under the tight pants, your omega scent thickening the air with unwitting invitation.

Your expression twisted, lips parting in disbelief as a flush creeped up your neck to tint those cheeks. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He smiled fondly as he eyed the purple hue in your cheeks, it was once pink when you were his little tawtute.

"Put the gun down and I'll explain." He coaxed stepping forward, voice dropping to a rumble that vibrated with promise, his pheromones instinctively flaring in a smoky dominance that curled towards you.

"Fat fucking chance." You spat, finger hovering on the trigger as your body tensed, the rifle's barrel unwavering despite the turmoil etching your posture.

They saw Jake then, ghosting behind you, his form a silent storm. You didn't sense him, emotions roiling too strongly within you, the confusion and suspicion was a buried pull from Lo’ak's words that clouded your instincts. Just as your eyes narrowed aiming to shoot, Jake's arm snaked out with a precise strike to your temple dropping you limp, your rifle clattering to the ground.

"Let's go. Move." Jake ordered, voice steel-edged, urgency propelling them.

Lo’ak lunged, scooping your unconscious body. It was warm and solid, your weight fitting against his chest like fate's cruel gift. Your head lolled against his shoulder with your soft lips slack, the curve of your neck exposed where your scent glands are and he ached to mark it. He was not letting you go this time, he vowed inwardly. The obsession coiling tight as he jumped, your form cradled close to his chest.

You stirred in fragments as your head throbbed like a war drum, body heavy and alien in ways you couldn't place. The world tilted, salt spray stinging your skin but strong arms held you fast towards a broad chest. Voices blurred with urgent commands then splashes, the familiar roar of engines fading. Your eyelids fluttered, catching glimpses of blue limbs churning water, a face hovering close, yellow eyes burning with something feral and possessive.

Who... what?

Panic flickered but exhaustion dragged you under again, the stranger's smoky scent wrapping around you like chains pulling you into the unknown.

Hours had bled since the Sea Dragon's retreat, Metkayina warriors' spears driving the RDA skimmers back into the horizon like scattering ikran. Lo'ak's family had spilled into the healing space earlier. Neytiri's eyes widening in stunned silence as he laid your limp form on the woven cot, her gaze tracing the Na'vi lines of your body, so eerily reminiscent of the human girl who'd captured her son's heart.

She knew the depth of his longing back then, the way he'd orbit you like a moth to flame and now... by Eywa's mercy or cruel jest, you breathed again.

Jake had woven the tale swiftly to Tonowari, voice steady with feigned sorrow of RDA men snatching you from Omatikaya soil and twisted your mind blank in their labs all to strike at the Sully's. He did this for his dead friend and the sight of Lo'ak's knuckles white around your waist, his son clearly not intending to let go of you no matter what.

The Olo'eyktan nodded gravely and Ronal's piercing gaze all but yielded as uturu was granted. A private marui was yours by the clan's edge and Lo'ak wasted no breath bundling you there and away from prying eyes.

Now alone in the dim glow of light, he perched on the mat's edge, thumb tracing the swell of your cheekbone, the skin now like polished sapphire under his callused pad. Months of hollow ache, of yearning, and regrets dissolved in this miracle.

You, alive and blue-skinned. Your human curves honed into this body by those RDA scientists, honed into something divine as your chest rose steady.

His fingers drifted to your kuru, the neural tendrils soft and pulsing, it was a siren's call to him. You can make tsaheylu at last and the thought made heat pool low within him as visions assaulted his mind. Your kurus entwined, your slick walls clenching his knot, belly swelling with his seed as he bites your neck.

The lie he'd planted on that ship earlier?

It was a seed to bloom and he will nurture it until you begged for his claim, until your body yielded under his relentless thrusts as he finally claim his reborn omega.

"My pretty little omega." He murmured, voice thick with reverence and hunger, leaning close enough to taste your exhales. "You came back to me."

Your lashes trembled, world sharpening from blur to the unfamiliar marui's woven confines. Pain throbbed at your temple but it was the face above yours that jolted you. A sharp jaw shadowed with intent, golden eyes devouring you whole. It was the same man from the ship who dared call himself your alpha. Instinct screamed within as you bolted upright, scrambling back until your shoulders hit the pod's curved wall.

"Shh mawey, omega." He soothed, palms rising in mock surrender though his tail betrayed him with a eager flick. "It's me, Lo'ak."

You pressed your knees to your chest, the tactical gear chafing against your skin that hummed strangely sensitive with every nerve alight.

"Why am I here?" Your voice emerged rough and edged with wariness as you scanned the space, something so different from the blank white walls in the RDA base.

He shifted closer on his haunches, his alpha scent blooming smoky and insistent as it wrapped around you like invisible vines. "I told you, you're my omega. Do you really not remember me, (Y/N)?"

His tone dipped low and laced with feigned hurt that masked the thrill coiling in his gut.

You shook your head, a void yawning where memories should be. "I don't know you."

A shadow crossed his features but his lips curved into something soft and forlorn.

"Of course you don't. The RDA kidnapped you, knowing you were my mate. They wanted leverage against me and my family, twisted your head until it all faded so you can be a weapon honed against us." He leaned in, voice dropping to a rumble that vibrated through the air, his golden eyes tracing the pulse at your throat.

Doubt gnawed at you but his words slotted into the fog like puzzle edges.

"I don't believe you." You crossed your arms, the motion pulling fabric taut over swells that felt too heavier and foreign for your body.

"It's true, (Y/N)." He pressed, earnestness dripping like honeyed venom, golden gaze locking yours. "Ask my parents, they'll tell you. Why would we drag an RDA stray into our home if you meant nothing? We'd have ended you on sight if you were just another faceless soldier. But you're here because you're mine, my omega. I’m not gonna let you go after too damn long without you."

The conviction rolled off him chipping at your resolve.

The emptiness in your skull pulsed with the flashes of sterile lights and needles when you woke up without memories. Just a clean slate only knowing your name and mission to exterminate Jake Sully along with his family. It fit this narrative of erasure he’s spouting, it explained the ache of absence of your memories, and the the way his scent tugged at something buried.

Still, your walls stayed high, trust wasn't easily surrendered to pretty tales. "I'm not gonna believe you that quickly."

He could see that you braced for fury, a snarl or grab from him but he only smiled wider, teeth flashing in the low light. He was a hunter savoring the chase. He’s done this before and he can damn sure do it again.

The long game it is.

He mused inwardly, pulse quickening at the fire in your stare.

As long as I end up buried balls-deep and knotting you full with my kids.

"I know." He said aloud, voice gentle as a breeze. "You have every right to be wary but I'll prove I'm telling the truth. Every day until it sinks in."

From a woven basket, he drew garments. A delicate weave of sea silk in iridescent blues, the beaded edges shimmering like lagoon foam. He offered them, fingers brushing yours with electric intent.

"But first here, change into these. Your gear screams sky people, it'll draw eyes we don't need."

Hesitation gripped you but logic won as you snatched the bundle, the fabric whispering soft against your palms. "Turn around."

His smirk ghosted quick, a flash of mischief before he pivoted with his broad back to you. The muscles rippling under his striped skin, his tail curling with barely leashed anticipation.

Silly little omega.

He thought, his cock stirring at the sound of rustles and clothes dropping behind him.

I'll devour every inch of you soon enough. By letting you have this? This will build the trust I'll shatter with my teeth on your throat soon.

For now, he'd indulge you by letting the illusion of safety root within you.

You stripped swiftly, peeling away the stiff RDA layers, the cool air kissing your bare skin that pebbled instantly.

The top draped like a second skin, thin straps framing the generous heft of your breasts. The RDA alterations leaving them lush and buoyant from the usual Na'vi body proportions. It was nearly overflowing the shell cups, nipples tightening against the weave from the exposure. The loincloth settled low, hugging the flare of your hips. Hips that still carries the human echo of soft fertile width. The fabric molding to the cleft of your mound, outlining the lower plush lips beneath with shameless clarity.

Heat flooded your cheeks, a shy vulnerability twisting in your gut at how the breeze teased your inner thighs but you swallowed it, straightening with forced poise.

"Done." You muttered, voice tight.

He turned slow, breath catching audibly, his growing bulge straining against his own minimal covering as his gaze raked you with raw and unblinking eyes.

Your form hit him like a spear. Those tits were swollen temptations begging for his mouth as it spilled toward the sides with each inhale. Your hips swaying unconsciously, promising the grip he'd rut into. The loincloth’s cradle accentuating your cunts heat, your scent blooming freer now, that musky arousal laced with your omega sweetness that slammed his senses.

His nostrils flared wide as he inhaled deeply, the tang of your untouched slick flooding him making his cock throb painfully.

You caught the shift, the way his pupils blew dark and jaw clenched as he drank you in.

"Stop looking at me like that." You hissed, arms folding over your chest though it only plumped your cleavage further as your ears flattened in irritation.

"Can't an alpha admire his omega?" He drawled, voice husky with barely veiled lust as he stepped a fraction closer, his pheromones thickening the air like a claim already staked.

"I'm not yours." You grumbled low, a frustrated rumble in your throat as your tail lashed behind you.

Oh but you will be.

He thought, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise for the the hunt that is just beginning.

Lo’ak extended his palm, fingers splayed in invitation, the veins along his forearm flexing with restrained power as he waited for you to grasp it. But you swatted it aside with a sharp flick of your wrist, the motion sending your hair swaying against your shoulders, a spark of defiance lighting your amber eyes.

He chuckled low and undeterred, the sound rumbling from his chest like distant thunder over the waves as he rose fluidly and gestured toward the marui's entrance.

"Come on, then." He said, voice laced with amusement, stepping out into the sun-dappled path without waiting.

You followed cautiously, bare feet padding over the woven floor, the iridescent top shifting with each step to tease glimpses of the deep valley between your full rounded breast and the curves engineered to perfection, their weight pulling gently at the thin straps.

The village unfolded around you as ilus glided through crystalline lagoons, people weaving nets with fluid grace, the air thick with brine and laughter.

"This is the Metkayina clan." Lo’ak explained glancing back with a crooked smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "My family and I sought uturu here after…"

His words faltered, gaze drifting inward, a shadow crossing his face as the memory clawed at him. You, limp and bloodied in his arms amid the Omatikaya ruins, your final breath a ghost that had haunted his nights.

He shook it off, jaw tightening briefly. "After the RDA attacked our people and kidnapped you. My father figured leaving would shield the Omatikaya as they were hunting him after all."

"Oh." You murmured, the syllable soft, absorbing the weight of his half-truth as you trailed him toward the shore.

The beach stretched wide, sands like crushed pearls underfoot, waves curling in lazy foam that kissed your toes.

You paused, head tilting back to drink in the expanse of the endless turquoise horizon, fronds rustling in a breeze that carried hints of coral and freedom. It was worlds away from the RDA base's sterile hum, those endless white corridors that had pressed in like a vise on your spirit. Here, your lungs expanded fully, the salt-kissed wind whispering against your exposed midriff, raising gooseflesh along the smooth plane of your belly.

You pivoted to face him, sunlight gilding the stripes across his broad frame highlighting the taut lines of his abdomen where they dipped toward his hips. He was handsome in a wild and untamed way with high cheekbones sharp as carved stones, lips full and curved in perpetual mischief, his kuru draped over one shoulder like a warrior's braid.

Could he truly be your alpha? The question swirled, pulling at fragments of curiosity of how had your paths crossed, what sparks had ignited this supposed bond and turned the two of you into lovers?

His scent hit you then, a heady rush of smoked wood and primal earth, wrapping around your senses like a heated embrace. It stirred something deep, your omega instincts humming in response, drawn to the raw masculinity radiating from him, to the promise of protection and possession. A true alpha commanding without force. Yet wariness lingered, a shield against the allure he displays.

You'd unearth the truth, one way or another.

"How did we meet?" You asked, voice steady despite the flutter in your chest, stepping closer as the tide lapped at your ankles.

Lo’ak's mind spun a tale effortlessly, threading lies with echoes of reality. He leaned against a palm trunk, arms crossing to accentuate the swell of his biceps.

"Your father was a close ally of my father before yours died because of the RDA. My father offered you sanctuary in the Omatikaya after. The first time I caught your scent..." His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as he recalled the genuine pull, that intoxicating bloom that had hooked him from the start. "It hit me like a storm. I knew right then I had to make you my omega."

Heat crept up your neck, staining your blue cheeks a deeper sapphire but you rolled your eyes to mask it. You crossed your arms beneath your chest, the gesture lifting the plush orbs higher, their soft undersides brushing the fabric's edge.

"And how did we fall in love? How did you make me your omega?"

He turned fully to you, grin widening into something wolfish, teeth gleaming as he closed the distance. His tail brushing your calf in a fleeting electric touch. This time, truth edged his words, laced with dark satisfaction. "You were a firecracker, always dodging me. I'd hunt you down and you'd push back every time with feisty rejections. But I wore you down, made you gave in."

You huffed, a breathy sound of exasperation as your ears twitched forward. "How?"

That sleazy grin stretched, predatory and unashamed, as he captured your hand in his larger one. The calluses rough against your smoother palm and he guided it downward, pressing your fingers firmly against the thick ridge straining his loincloth. The heat of him seared through the thin barrier, the rigid length twitching under your touch, pulsing with insistent need.

You recoiled with a hiss, yanking back as if burned, your tail coiling tight against your thigh.

"You’re so disgusting." You snapped, though your voice wavered, pulse racing at the sheer girth outlined there.

You could feel the prominent veins even through the cloth, a formidable promise that sent an unwelcome thrill skittering down your spine.

"Disgusting?" He laughed, the sound rich and teasing, stepping into your space without apology, his free hand hovering near your hip. "It's natural for an omega to touch her own alpha. This dick's yours after all, it was made for splitting you open."

His gaze dropped to your pretty face, smug as he caught the flush blooming across your collarbone.

"Is my baby getting shy on me?"

"I don’t wanna touch that." You glared, fangs bared slightly but the betraying warmth between your thighs deepened, your core clenching involuntarily as the omega in you urged to submit and to explore that alpha potency he emits.

He was massive. The outline suggesting a flesh forged for dominance and it made the hidden part of you, the slick needy omega, preen with forbidden excitement. A fresh gush of arousal dampened your folds, the scent rising sharp and sweet like ripe fruit begging to be plucked by his mouth.

Lo’ak's nostrils flared inhaling deeply, a smug curl to his lips as he savored your reaction. Your body's confession louder than any denial you display for him. He bit his lower lip, the plump flesh whitening under teeth, before recapturing your hand and drawing it to his mouth. His tongue flicked out, warm and wet, tracing the knuckles in a slow deliberate kiss that sent shivers racing up your arm.

"You've wrapped your fingers around it plenty before when I made you my omega." The lie slipped out velvet-smooth, his eyes locked on yours with heated intensity.

You groaned pulling away from the lewd promise in his touch, sinking onto the warm sand in a fluid drop, knees drawing up to hug your shins. The grains shifted beneath you, cradling the curve of your ass, the loincloth riding up slightly to expose more of your toned thighs.

He dropped beside you, thigh pressing boldly against yours, the contact igniting sparks along your skin. His body heat a tangible force, his muscles coiled like a predator at rest.

"What happened to you in that RDA hellhole?" He asked, voice dropping to a gravelly murmur, one arm draping casually behind you on the sand.

You shrugged, shoulders rolling under the light top, the motion causing your breasts to settle with a subtle jiggle, nipples peaking against the weave from the cooling breeze.

"They drilled me with training, said it was to sharpen old instincts. All I had was my name and the order to drag in Jake Sully. It was... hollow like pieces of me were carved out leaving echoes."

Lo’ak's jaw clenched, tendons standing out like cords along his neck, a flicker of genuine rage darkening his features at the thought of their violations. First they killed you and now remade you without your consent and your mind stripped of everything.

"You’re here now." He growled softly, leaning in until his breath ghosted your ear, sending tingles cascading down your neck. "And I’ll never let you slip away again. No harm touches what's mine."

Silence fell heavy with the crash of waves and you grew still, his vow sinking in like roots into soil stirring a tentative warmth amid the suspicion you harbor.

He nearly smirked sensing the crack in your arm from the way your posture softened and your eyes flicking to his with budding belief in this fabricated narrative he has.

"Let say it’s true, what if I never remember you?" You whispered, fingers tracing idle patterns in the sand, vulnerability etching lines around your mouth.

"It doesn’t matter." He replied, tone resolute yet tender as he shifted to face you fully, his hand brushing a stray tendril from your forehead, thumb lingering on the silky arch of your brow. "I’ll give you new ones to remember. Ones that will even make you forget you ever lost one."

Internally, he nearly laughed at the twist as he really was giving you new memories. He was scripting your shared history with one possessive thread at a time.

"Okay." You breathed, the word a quiet surrender, gaze dropping to where your knee brushed his.

"I’ve missed you, baby." He murmured voice thick with ache, leaning closer until his scent enveloped you completely in a cocoon of his desire. "So damn much."

You rolled your eyes, a playful scoff escaping despite the pull in your chest, and he threw his head back in laughter, the sound echoing free over the beach, sealing the moment in fragile intimacy he considered a win.

Lo'ak rose from the sand in one smooth motion, his form uncoiling like a vine under tension as he extended his hand once more with palm upturned. This time though, your fingers brushed his tentatively, sliding into the warm grip as curiosity edged out the caution. The contact sending a subtle current up your arm.

He smiled, a genuine curve softening the sharp angles of his face, fingers curling possessively over yours.

"It's getting close to dinner." He said, voice warm with invitation, thumb stroking a lazy circle on your skin. "Want to eat at my family's marui?"

You hesitated, gaze flicking toward the distant pods nestled among the mangroves, the reality sinking in. There were no other refuge, no familiar faces beyond this enigmatic man who claimed your past. With a small nod you agreed, the motion causing your kuru to sway gently against the nape of your neck where your scent glands pulsed faintly.

His grin widened into something triumphant and boyish as he tugged you along the winding paths.

The village was alive with the flicker of lanterns igniting against the deepening twilight. Voices drifted from the marui ahead of animated chatter laced with laughter and you faltered at the threshold as your ears pinned back slightly, the woven entrance flap fluttering like a hesitant veil.

But Lo'ak's hold tightened, his grip a steady anchor pulling you forward.

"No need to fear, baby." He murmured leaning close enough for his breath to fan your temple, carrying that intoxicating alpha musk. "You're my mate, they're your family, too."

He guided you inside, the space cozy with the glow of woven lamps and the aroma of spiced seafood simmering over a low flame. All eyes turned lingering on your intertwined hands, the air thickening with unspoken questions. Jake broke the silence first, his broad shoulders shifting as he set down a tool, his expression etched with regret.

"I'm sorry for clocking you earlier, kid." He said gruffly, voice heavy with apology. "Had to play it that way, there was no choice."

You nodded mutely, the memory of the blow still a dull throb at your temple. Lo'ak steered you to a mat beside him, his thigh brushing yours in casual ownership, the heat of his skin seeping through your loincloth.

"How are you holding up?" Neytiri asked, her golden eyes softening with casual concern, one hand resting on her hip.

"I'm... okay." You replied, the words tentative, your free hand fidgeting with the edge of your top as the fabric clung to the swell of your hips. "Just confused, mostly."

Lo'ak's fingers remained laced with yours, a constant pressure under the table, his pulse steady against your wrist.

"Is it true you've got no memories left?" Tuk piped up, her wide eyes curious and tail flicking with that youthful energy.

You flinched, the question a sharp prod at the void in your mind, your shoulders hunching instinctively.

Lo'ak's voice cut in firm, a warning edging his tone. "Tuk, easy."

"It's fine." You interjected quickly, forcing a small smile despite the sting. "And yes, nothing. Blank slate."

Jake leaned forward, his calm smile a reassuring anchor amid the family's scrutiny, the lines around his eyes crinkling with empathy. "No worries, we'll start fresh. I'm Jake, this is my wife Neytiri. Over there's Neteyam the eldest, Kiri the second oldest, Tuk the youngest, and Spider their human buddy who's basically one of us."

You nodded, committing the names to memory. Neteyam's steady gaze, Kiri's warm eyes, Tuk's infectious grin, and Spider's awkward wave from his spot by the wall. You were searching for any flicker of recognition in the recesses of your skull but only silence echoed back in the hollow expanse.

"Your father... he was a good friend of mine before the RDA took him out." Jake added, guilt shadowing his features, jaw tightening as he recalled the betrayal and loss. "They didn't give him a chance."

You bit your lower lip, the plump flesh yielding under your fangs, the story slotting neatly into Lo'ak's earlier tale, chipping away at your doubts like waves eroding stone. The belief for Lo’ak’s words stirring, it was tentative but it was growing.

Lo'ak suppressed the urge to smirk, inwardly thrilled as his father unwittingly bolstered the web of deception he had fabricated, the pieces aligning in his favor.

"Yeah, Lo'ak mentioned it earlier." You said softly, glancing at him sidelong, the warmth of his hand a subtle reassurance.

Neytiri slid two woven bowls your way, steam rising from chunks of fish and roots, her smile gentle as she nudged them closer.

"Eat up, you need your strength." She urged, voice laced with quiet care.

"Thank you." You murmured, accepting the offering, the savory scent curling into your nostrils.

Only then did Lo'ak release your hand, his fingers lingering a beat too long before withdrawing, allowing you to scoop up the meal. He watched you intently, a soft smile playing on his lips, his own bowl untouched as he savored the sight of your lashes fluttering as you chewed, the line of your throat working with each swallow.

His family exchanged subtle glances, noting the light reigniting in his eyes, that immense devotion he'd poured into chasing you before. They remembered the hollow shell he'd become after your death, the feral rage, the way he'd cradled your broken form before burying you under the sacred tree, Neytiri's heart fracturing at her son's raw grief.

When you finished, scraping the last bits from the bowl, you offered a grateful nod. "Thank you, all of you. That was... kind."

Lo'ak's hand found yours again, callused palm enveloping your smaller one as he stood pulling you up with him.

"I'll crash in her marui tonight." He announced casually, tone brooking no argument. "She needs me close."

Protest bubbled on your tongue but he leaned in grinning wickedly as his lips brushed your ear in a heated whisper. "You're my omega. I'm staying with you, end of story."

You rolled your eyes, a exasperated huff escaping, but bid the family farewell with a wave, their nods accepting as they were accustomed to Lo'ak's relentless pursuit back in the old days, his stubborn affection as predictable as the tides.

He led you through the cooling night, the path to your marui lit by glowing fungi, his steps buoyant with barely contained glee. Finally, no barriers between him and your warmth, no rejections and no distance. At the entrance, he ducked inside first then reached back, drawing you down onto the sleeping cot with insistent tugs, the woven surface yielding under your combined weight.

You settled beside him but instinctually shifted away leaving a deliberate gap between you, your body curling slightly on its side, the curve of your spine arching away from his heat.

He frowned, brows knitting over those piercing yellow eyes but the expression melted into a quick grin, predatory and playful.

"Baby, scoot over here." He coaxed, voice a low rumble.

You huffed, arms crossing over your chest, the motion pressing your breasts together in the dim light. "No."

He chuckled, the vibration deep in his chest, shifting closer despite your defiance. "You used to nestle right in my arms every night. It’s time to get that muscle memory kicking in, yeah?"

With another eye roll, you turned your back to him, knees drawing up, the position thrusting the firm globes of your ass outward, the loincloth's ties straining against the generous swell as you ignored his words. A yelp escaped you as his powerful arms banded around your waist, yanking you flush against his chest. The hard planes of his torso molding to your softer form, his heartbeat thundering steadily against your spine.

"Lo'ak!" You protested twisting slightly, your tail flicking in agitation.

"Don't deprive your alpha." He murmured, breath hot against your shoulder blade as he nuzzled deeper into the crook of your neck. "Been months without your heat, I’m starving for it."

You grumbled under your breath, the sound muffled against the mat but relented, your body loosening in his unyielding embrace. "Whatever."

Satisfied, he buried his face in your neck, nose pressing firmly into the sensitive glands there, inhaling deeply as he rubbed his own scent across your skin. He was marking you thoroughly, the musky alpha essence seeping into your pores until you'd carry him like a second skin. A deep purr rumbled from his throat vibrating through you, his tail snaking around to coil possessively along your inner thigh, the coarse hairs at its tip grazing the dampening fabric over your core in teasing strokes.

You bit your lip hard, fangs pricking the tender flesh, praying the growing slick wouldn't betray you but it did, the sweet needy aroma of your slick blooming in the confined space.

Lo'ak inhaled sharply, a smug edge to his purr. "Turn around, face me."

You ignored the command, squeezing your eyes shut, feigning sleep as your pulse raced.

"Face me, omega." He ordered, the alpha timbre lacing his voice like iron command, laced with unyielding authority.

Your eyes snapped open, body responding before your mind could catch up, twisting in his arms until you faced him with your noses nearly brushing, breaths mingling in the scant inches between.

"There you are." He breathed, gaze devouring the delicate fan of your lashes and the plush curve of your mouth. "My pretty little omega."

Silence stretched charged as he studied you. His eyes tracing the slope of your jaw, the subtle glow of your skin under the faint light. Then he nudged his nose against yours in a gentle eskimo kiss, the intimate gesture drawing your eyelids to flutter shut with a soft sigh escaping.

He grinned against your lips before claiming them in a filthy devouring kiss. His tongue plunging past your parted teeth without preamble, tasting of salt and hunger.

Fuck, so damn good.

The thought echoed in his mind as you let out a startled gasp, the sound muffled and swallowed by his mouth. He stole your air in greedy pulls, lips sealing over yours as his tongue tangled with yours sucking messily, wet and insistent, the slick slide igniting sparks that pooled low in your belly.

His mouth moved against yours with relentless hunger, tongue delving deep to lap at the sweetness of your inner cheeks, drawing out every muffled whimper as he ground his hips forward, the thick ridge of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh through the thin barrier of his loincloth. The kiss was a storm, wet and bruising, his fangs grazing your lower lip in a teasing nip that sent jolts straight to your core.

"Love kissing these lips, baby." He rasped when he finally pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a gravelly purr laced with dark satisfaction, hot breath fanning over your flushed skin.

His eyes, those intense golden slits, locked onto yours, pupils blown wide with predatory lust.

A soft mewl escaped your throat, the omega instincts buried deep in your new form surging to the surface like a tidal wave. His pheromones flooded the air, thick and musky and and laced with the sharp tang of possession. It was clouding your thoughts until your mind went blissfully blank, every nerve alight with the need to submit, to yield to this alpha who claimed you so deliciously.

"Lo’ak." You breathed, the name a plea tumbling from your parted lips, your hands fisting in the woven mat beneath you as your body arched instinctively toward him.

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours where your soft breasts pressed against the firm slabs of his pectorals. "Gonna let your alpha remind you how he made you his omega?"

His words dripped with manipulation, a velvet trap wrapped in seduction, his hand sliding down to grip the lush curve of your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with bruising intent. He knew the power he held, the way his scent could unravel you, bend you to his will without a fight.

Your inner omega preened at the command, tail thrashing against the cot in eager response as his pheromones intensified. It was wrapping around you like invisible chains stoking the fire in your veins until all you craved was to please him and to earn the approval of this dominant force. Slick gathered between your thighs, soaking through the delicate weave of your coverings.

"Please." You whispered, voice trembling with raw need, eyes half-lidded as you gazed up at him in desperate want.

Lo’ak's grin was feral against your mouth, teeth flashing white in the dim glow of the marui's inner light with a victorious gleam in his eyes. This was his win, another thread in the web he'd spun.

Back when you were that fragile tawtute, your human body was too small and too breakable for his Na'vi girth. He'd been forced to deny himself, rutting against your thigh or spilling over your skin in frustrated release. But now, in this altered form the RDA had twisted into something perfect for him. Your curves amplified, limbs elongated, core aching for an alpha's claim and he could finally bury himself to the hilt, reshape you from the inside out.

He shifted down your body with deliberate slowness, his broad shoulders nudging your thighs apart, exposing the glistening folds hidden beneath your loincloth. With a rough tug, he stripped the fabric away, the cool air kissing your heated skin and making you gasp. Your pussy was a vision, plump outer lips flushed a deep azure, inner petals slick and swollen, clit peeking like a ripe berry begging for attention. He inhaled deeply, groaning at the heady aroma of your arousal, it was sweet and fertile screaming omega in heat.

"Look at you, so fucking wet for me already." He murmured, voice husky with awe and dark triumph, his breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "This pretty cunt remembers its alpha, even if your head's playing tricks."

His thumbs parted you wider, exposing every inch to his hungry gaze, the cool tips contrasting the molten slick that dripped down toward your ass.

You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily, the virgin tightness of your Na'vi entrance clenching around nothing. You had no inkling of this body's untouched state nor that it wasn’t your real body, no memory of past intimacies, only the overwhelming urge to be filled and claimed as well as the words of Lo’ak that he had already mated with you before.

"Lo’ak... need you." You panted, fingers threading into his braids, tugging lightly as your chest heaved, nipples hardening into tight peaks against the sheer top clinging to your full rounded breasts.

He didn't rush, savoring the power, the way you squirmed under his scrutiny. Leaning in, he dragged his tongue flat from your entrance to your clit in one long languid stroke, collecting your essence with a guttural moan escaping him. The taste exploded on his tongue, it was tart and addictive like the ripest fruit mingled with the salt of the sea.

"Mhm, fuck baby. Taste like mine." He growled, lapping again, slower this time, circling your clit with the broad side before flicking the tip precisely making your thighs quake around his head.

Your back arched off the cot, a keening cry spilling from your lips as pleasure coiled tight in your belly. His mouth was devouring you with sloppy obscene sounds, sucking and slurping, his fangs grazing just enough to tease without pain. He delved deeper, tongue spearing into your hole, fucking you with wet thrusts that mimicked what was to come, his nose bumping your clit with each push. Your slick coated his chin, dripping down his throat as he feasted, one hand pinning your hip while the other teased your entrance with a single finger circling the fluttering rim before sliding in knuckle-deep.

"Tight... so goddamn tight." He rasped between licks, pumping his finger slowly, curling it to stroke that spongy spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "Gonna stretch you open for my cock, omega. Make you take every inch like you used to beg for."

Lies woven seamlessly into praise, his words stoking your doubt into desire, making you cling to the narrative he fed you.

"Yes more, please." You sobbed, the coil winding tighter, your walls fluttering around his digit as he added a second, scissoring them to prepare you, the burn blending into exquisite fullness.

Your tail coiled around his wrist urging him deeper, body betraying any lingering resistance. He worked you mercilessly, mouth and fingers in tandem sucking your clit hard while thrusting deep, the lewd squelch of your slick echoing in the marui. Your orgasm built like a cresting wave, crashing over you with a shattered cry, walls clamping down as you gushed against his tongue, thighs clamping his ears in a vise.

Lo’ak drank it all humming in approval, not stopping until you trembled oversensitive then withdrawing with a final teasing lick. "Good girl, came so pretty for me."

He rose up, shedding his own coverings in a fluid motion. His massive girthy cock springing, the azure length veined and throbbing, tip beaded with precum and his knot already swelling at the base like a promise of lock and claim.

Your eyes widened at the sight, a flicker of instinctive awe and apprehension mixing with the haze of lust but he was already positioning himself, the blunt head nudging your soaked folds.

"Shh, baby, your alpha's got you." He soothed with tenderness in his tone as he rocked forward, breaching you inch by torturous inch.

The stretch was intense, your virgin walls yielding reluctantly to his size. A sharp sting giving way to burning fullness that had you gasping with your nails raking down his back.

"Fuck, so big." You whined, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the taut muscles of his ass as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.

The bulge of his cock visible under the soft plane of your belly, it was an obscene distension that made him groan in dark delight.

"Look at that." He panted pressing a hand over the swell, feeling himself inside you. "Taking me like a perfect omega. Feel how deep I am? This is how I claimed you, filled you up, and made you mine."

He rolled his hips experimentally, grinding against that spot within, drawing a moan from your depths.

You nodded frantically, lost in the sensation, the pain forgotten as pleasure bloomed anew. "Yours... Lo’ak, move please."

He obliged with a savage thrust, setting a brutal rhythm. Pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in, the slap of skin on skin mingling with your cries and his grunts. His knot bumped your entrance with each drive, swelling further, slick easing the way as your body wept for him, coating his length in glistening sheen. He fucked you like a beast unleashed, one hand braced beside your head, the other kneading your breast and pinching the dusky nipple until it pebbled under his filthy touch.

"That's it, scream for your alpha." He demanded, voice rough with need, leaning down to capture your mouth in another messy kiss.

He swallowed your moans as he pounded deeper, the bulge shifting with every plunge. Sweat slicked your bodies, his stripes glistening under the faint light, muscles rippling with each powerful snap of his hips.bThe coil tightened again, faster this time, your walls rippling around him as he chased his own release.

"Gonna knot you, baby. Lock us together, flood this tight pussy with my seed. Remember how it feels?" His words were a dark incantation, pushing you toward the edge.

"Knot me, alpha!" You cried, climax ripping through you like lightning, vision whiting out as you clenched around him milking his cock with rhythmic pulses.

Lo’ak growled, hips stuttering as his knot caught, popping past your rim with a wet pop, sealing him inside as hot spurts of cum painted your walls. The pressure was immense, your tummy bulging further from the sheer volume. He ground against you prolonging the bliss until you both shuddered in aftershocks. Panting, he nuzzled your neck, fangs scraping the tender gland there.

"Mine forever." He whispered possessively before sinking his teeth in a claiming bite that broke skin, bonding your scent and soul without the neural link he deliberately avoided.

No tsaheylu tonight. That would come later when his lies were ironclad, concrete, and unbreakable.

The pain-pleasure mix drew a gasp from you but instinct took over. Your own fangs finding his shoulder biting down in reciprocal mark, sealing the bond with your bite.

As the haze cleared, affection bloomed in your chest, his words echoing truer now. You nuzzled into him with his knot still keeping you locked, your fingers tracing the fresh mark on his skin, believing—starting to believe—the story of your shared past.

"Lo’ak... my alpha." You murmured softly, body lax and sated in his arms, the manipulative victory complete for now.

Lo’ak’s grin widened as your words hung in the humid air of the marui.

My alpha.

It was the echo of every fevered dream that had haunted him since the first glimpse of your human form amid the Omatikaya’s shadows, that intoxicating blend of vulnerability and fire drawing him in like a moth to your flame. All the calculated steps, the whispered deceptions, the nights of restrained longing, they’d led to this moment, his obsession crystallizing into reality.

His heart hammered against his ribs, a wild drumbeat syncing with the subtle throb of your shared bites, while his tail snaked around the supple curve of your thigh, coiling possessively to anchor you closer. The lean muscles of his arm flexed as he leaned in, lips brushing the fresh puncture on your neck in a featherlight kiss, the metallic tang of your mingled blood still faint on his tongue.

"I love you so damn much, baby." He murmured, voice rough with unfiltered emotion, the confession spilling out like a dam breaking.

Back in the Omatikaya, he’d swallowed those words a thousand times, fearing your casual arrangement would shatter under the weight of his truth. But now, with your body marked as his, your scent woven irrevocably into his own, he could unleash it all shamelessly.

A soft smile curved your lips, eyes fluttering shut as the combined aroma of your scent enveloped you like a soothing mist, rich with alpha claim and omega surrender. It lulled you into slumber, your breathing evening out against the woven fibers of the sleeping mat, limbs lax in the afterglow.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away, tracing the delicate fan of your lashes against your cheeks, the gentle swell of your mouth still swollen from his kisses, the way your chest rose and fell in rhythmic peace.

He was one lucky bastard he thought, a possessive heat blooming in his gut. He’d never release this hold. He would weave every lie and every touch into an unbreakable chain to keep you forever. With a contented sigh, he pulled you flush against his side, the warmth of your skin seeping into his and drifted off with a rare genuine smile softening his features.

Hours slipped by in the dappled light filtering through the marui’s entrance and you stirred to the sensation of warm lips trailing feather-soft kisses along the slope of your shoulders, each press igniting faint sparks along your nerves. Lo’ak’s breath was hot against your skin, his body a solid wall of heat spooned behind you.

"Hi, baby." He whispered, voice husky from sleep, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I’m just gonna get food for us. You can sleep more."

You nodded sleepily, a murmur of agreement escaping as his mouth captured yours in a lewd lingering kiss. His tongue teasing the seam of your lips before delving in with lazy hunger, leaving you breathless and boneless. As he pulled away, you sank back into the haze, eyelids heavy.

Lo’ak lingered for a beat, his eyes raking over you with unbridled satisfaction to the vivid red of the bite mark blooming against your azure skin, the serene beauty of your face in repose, and the tantalizing dip of your waist flaring into generous hips that still bore the faint imprints of his grip.

"My pretty omega." He breathed, a dark thrill underscoring the words, before rising as he donned a simple loincloth.

Stepping out into the morning bustle of Awa’atlu, his face split into the widest unapologetic grin, the claiming bite on his neck on full display like a badge of conquest.

The salty breeze ruffled his braids as he made his way to the communal breakfast area, where woven platforms overflowed with fresh catches and fruits under the watchful eyes of the clan. His family clustered around one such table, the air filled with the chatter of siblings and the clink of shells.

Lo’ak approached with that same beaming expression, grabbing two broad leaf-plates and loading them methodically with succulent slices of fish grilled with reef herbs for your sensitive palate, clusters of tart berries you’d once shyly admitted craving, and tender kelp wraps stuffed with spiced meats. Every choice was deliberate, a caretaker’s instinct laced with his obsessive need to provide.

Spider, perched cross-legged with a skewer in hand, caught sight of the mark first, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Yo, bro? You’re her alpha now?" He blurted, voice laced with teasing curiosity.

Neteyam shot him a sharp glare, hand clamping over Spider’s mouth mid-sentence while Kiri hissed a quick "Shh!"—both siblings’ gazes darting to little Tuk who blinked innocently over her bowl of fruit mash, oblivious to the undercurrents.

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a loaded glance across the table but neither spoke. Lo’ak merely flashed a serene smile, plates balanced effortlessly, and turned away without a word, his stride purposeful.

The path back to your marui wound through swaying palms and tide pools but halfway there, a familiar voice halted him.

"Lo’ak, I haven’t seen you since yesterday." Tsireya said, emerging from a cluster of huts, her frame poised with concern. "I was so worried when me and Tuk left you and Neteyam during the attack."

He paused, the realization hitting like a forgotten shadow. She’d slipped his mind entirely in the whirlwind of his victory and your presence. Her eyes, wide and searching, flicked to the jagged bite on his neck, then flared at the unfamiliar sweet feminine undertone threading through his scent.

"Why do you smell like that... and why do you have a bite mark?" She asked, voice cracking with dawning hurt, her hands twisting in the hem of her top.

Lo’ak met her gaze steadily, his tone calm and unyielding like a wall of finality. "It’s from my omega."

Her breath hitched, confusion twisting her features. "What do you mean my omega? You don’t have... I’m your—"

"I thought she was gone forever but I found her yesterday when saving Spider." He cut in with voice even, the lie about your history slipping seamlessly into place.

"What—" Tsireya’s world tilted, the vibrant hues of the reef blurring as rejection sank in like venom.

Just days prior, his touches and shared laughs had sparked hope in her chest, a budding bond she’d nurtured. Now, it crumbled to dust before an invisible rival.

"I’m sorry, Tsireya." Lo’ak continued, his words measured but cold, devoid of the warmth he’d feigned before. "I never planned to be with you. I was just doing all of that to make my family think I’m trying to move on from her. But now that she’s back, there’s no reason to. I’m not letting her go."

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over in glistening trails down her face, her chest heaving with the sting of loss to this faceless woman.

Who was she to steal him so completely? To rob me of being Lo’ak’s omega?

Her lips parted in a silent plea but he was already turning away.

"You are beautiful and everything that an alpha could want." He added, almost as an afterthought, his voice flat with disinterest. "But it’s just not me. I am hers."

He left her standing there rooted in heartbreak, hurrying back to the marui with the plates warm in his hands. All he craved now was to care for you, his omega, his everything. Feeding you and binding you tighter with every act of devotion.

Lo'ak slipped back into the marui, the woven entrance flap whispering shut behind him, carrying the savory aroma of grilled fish and fresh berries on the breeze. His eyes softened at the sight of you, still curled in the nest of furs and mats, your form rising and falling in the deep even breaths of sleep. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, warm and possessive, as he set the leaf-plates down on a low shelf carved from coral.

My cock must've really worn her out last night.

He thought, a lewd spark igniting in his gaze as memories of your slick heat clenching around him flooded back, the way your walls had fluttered in surrender and milking every thrust until you shattered beneath him.

He approached with silent steps and knelt beside you. Leaning in, he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. First the smooth arch of your brow, then the high plane of your cheekbone, lingering on the plush curve of your lower lip before brushing featherlight across your eyelids. Each press of his mouth was deliberate, infused with the musky depth of his alpha scent, stirring you from slumber like a gentle tide.

Your lashes fluttered open, hazy with remnants of dreams, and you met his intense golden eyes, framed by the intricate braids that cascaded over his broad shoulders.

"You need to eat." He murmured, voice a husky caress, laced with unwavering command and affection as he gathered a piece of flaky fish between his fingers and the steam rising in lazy curls.

Propped on one elbow, you felt the pleasant ache between your thighs, a reminder of his dominance but his care wrapped around you like a protective cocoon. He brought the morsel to your lips, watching with rapt hunger as you parted them, your tongue darting out to taste the spiced flesh.

Bite by bite he fed you, his free hand tracing idle patterns along the line of your collarbone, dipping lower to skim the swell of your breast, thumb circling the pebbled peak through the thin fabric of your top. The berries came next, their juice bursting tart and sweet on your tongue, a drop escaping to trail down your chin. He caught it with his thumb, sucking it clean with a wicked glint in his eye, his tail flicking lazily against your calf.

As the plates emptied for you, a satisfied hum escaped him but he made no move to touch his own food, too entranced by the way your throat worked with each swallow.

"You should eat too." You said softly, reaching for a skewer, your voice threaded with concern and a budding warmth that mirrored his devotion. "I can feed myself."

He shook his head firmly, capturing your wrist in his large palm, the calluses from years of archery rough against your softer flesh.

"No, baby." He replied, tone brooking no argument, eyes darkening with obsessive fervor. "I have to take care of my omega first. That's my job. Keeping you fed, safe, and satisfied. Always."

His words sent a flutter through your chest, a sweet ache blooming there as you realized how deeply you believed him now. How his presence made the world feel secure, his alpha essence seeping into every corner of your being. You liked this, being his omega, cherished and commanded in equal measure.

When your belly was full and rounded slightly from the meal, he gazed down at it with a soft predatory smile. His big hand splaying wide over the taut skin just below your navel with his fingers curling possessively. The warmth of his touch seeped through, stirring a low heat in your core.

"Soon, there'll be a baby in here." He whispered, voice thick with longing and raw desire, his thumb stroking in slow circles that hinted at the life he envisioned swelling within you.

Heat flooded your cheeks, a blush painting your features in a darker hue as you rolled your eyes swatting at his hand with playful exasperation, though your pulse quickened at the intimate promise.

"Lo'ak." You chided half-laughing, the sound light and breathless, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

He laughed then, a deep joyous sound that vibrated through his chest, finally turning to his plate. He devoured the remnants with quick efficiency but his eyes never strayed far from you, drinking in the way your hair tumbled in loose waves over your shoulders and along the arch of your neck where his mark still throbbed faintly.

In the days that followed, Lo'ak's obsession manifested in every fiber of his being in a relentless tide of love and lewd attentiveness that left you breathless and adored.

He moved into your marui that very afternoon, his few possessions of woven hammock, his ikran saddle, and a carved bead necklace he'd made in secret had been transported with the help of Neteyam who casted knowing glances but said nothing. The space, once solitary and echoing, now hummed with his presence. His scent saturating the air, a heady mix of salt-kissed ocean and primal alpha musk that clung to the walls marking it as yours together.

You woke each morning to his body curled around yours, his bulge pressing insistently against the cleft of your ass in a morning ritual of grinding and teasing whispers before he'd pull away with a groan, insisting on preparing your bath instead.

"Let me wash you, omega." He'd say, voice gravelly with restraint, guiding you to the shallow basin filled with warmed reef water scented with healing herbs.

His hands lathered your skin, sliding over the firm globes of your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. Then down the dip of your waist, kneading the plush give of your hips then between your thighs, fingers parting your folds to cleanse the lingering slick from the night before. His breath hitching as you arched into his touch.

"So fucking perfect." He'd growl nipping at your ear but he'd stop short of more, saving his hunger for later as always to ensure you felt clean, pampered, and desired.

The clan's expectations for uturu weighed on you at first. The tasks assigned to earn your keep was weaving nets from dried kelp, gathering edible seaweed from the shallows, and repairing the communal fishing spears. But Lo'ak intercepted them all, his cunning alpha nature weaving through your routine like a shadow.

The first time you rose early, determined to contribute, slipping out to the weaving circle where the elders nodded approvingly at your arrival. Your fingers fumbled with the tough fibers, the sun warming the freckled expanse of your shoulders as you worked. He appeared like a storm cloud, all coiled energy and unyielding resolve, his frame cutting through the group.

"I've got this." He announced to the weavers, voice casual but edged with alpha authority, taking the half-started net from your hands.

His biceps bunched as he demonstrated a twist, eyes locking on yours with a silent command.

Let me.

You protested, cheeks warming under the curious stares. "Lo'ak, I can do it. It's my responsibility."

But he leaned close, breath hot against your temple as he murmured. "I know you can but why do it when I can do it for you? Let me handle it."

His tail brushed your ankle in a possessive sweep and despite your half-hearted grumble, a thrill coursed through you from the ease of being cared for settling like a balm.

By evening, the net was finished. His work, flawless and swift, delivered anonymously to the stores, the elders praising your “diligence” while you hid a smile behind your hand. He returned to the marui triumphant, scooping you into his arms with a filthy grin, his hips grinding against yours as he backed you toward the mat.

"See? All done. Now, spread those pretty legs for me. I've been thinking about your tight little pussy all day." His kisses were fierce then, claiming your mouth as he stripped you bare, worshipping every inch with his tongue until you were sobbing his name and your slick coating his chin.

The seaweed gathering was next, a dawn excursion to the tidal pools where the waves lapped at your ankles. You waded in, the cool water kissing the calves of your legs, basket in hand, when his voice called from the shore.

"Wait up, baby."

He dove in, water sluicing over the defined ridges of his abdomen, emerging to take the basket with a playful splash that dotted your chest.

"Too dangerous out here alone." He lied smoothly, though the pools were shallow and safe, his hand lingering on the curve of your lower back as he foraged instead.

You splashed him in retaliation, laughing as he growled and tackled you into the shallows, his body pinning yours against the sandy bottom, his erection throbbing against your thigh.

"Keep teasing and I'll fuck you right here." He warned nipping your jaw but he relented, filling the basket twice over before carrying you back, your protests melting into contented sighs at his insistence.

Spear repair became a quiet evening ritual he'd claim for himself in the dim glow of the marui's lanterns. You'd sit nearby, legs tucked under you, watching the play of muscles across his back as he sharpened the tips with a whetstone, the rhythmic scrape filling the air.

"I want to help." You say one night reaching for a dulled blade but he'd catch your hand, pulling you into his lap instead, his arousal evident as it nestled against your core.

"No lifting a finger, remember?" He rumble, voice laced with obsession, guiding your arms around his neck as he kissed you deeply, the spear forgotten until morning where he finished it in the dead of night while you slept.

Day by day, his care wove deeper, an unbreakable bond of obsession and tenderness as your alpha. He'd hunt extra fish just to watch you eat from his hand, murmur filthy promises about filling you with his seed while massaging your feet after a day of rest he'd enforced. You believed every word now, embraced the role of his omega with a quiet joy. Your body and heart yielding to the man who tended you like a sacred flame.

Now, the sun dipped low over the horizon, painting the waves in strokes of molten gold as you and Kiri strolled along the beach, the salty breeze tugging at your braided hair and cooling the flushed warmth of your cheeks. Your bare feet sank into the soft compacted sand, each step a rhythmic whisper against the shore, and you couldn't help but smile at the way the wind carried hints of distant blooms and ocean spray.

It had been a full day without sight of Lo'ak, his absence a nagging void in your chest and you hoped this walk might lead you to him. You had grown quite close to Lo’ak’s siblings especially Kiri and Tuk over the days. Now Kiri's easy company was a welcome distraction as she chattered about the clan's latest weaving patterns, her form swaying gracefully beside you, her tail flicking idly in the air.

Your gaze wandered ahead, scanning the clusters of palms and the figures dotting the shoreline, until it snagged on a familiar silhouette.

Lo'ak's broad back, the taut lines of his shoulders flexing under his sun-kissed skin. But it was the woman facing him that halted your breath, a striking Na'vi with intricate shell beads woven into her dark hair, her full lips curved in a smile, eyes sparkling like polished abalone under the fading light. She stood too close, her hand brushing his arm in a way that twisted something sharp in your gut.

"Who's that with him?" You asked Kiri, your voice light but edged with a tremor you couldn't quite mask, the words slipping out as your heart began to pound against your ribs.

Kiri's steps faltered, her expressive eyes widening for a split second before she glanced away. The hesitation carving a line of worry across your chest like a fresh wound. She bit her lower lip, the plump curve paling slightly under her teeth before sighing softly.

"That's Tsireya." She said finally, her tone gentle but reluctant as if the name itself carried weight. "The Olo'eyktan's daughter. She's... well, she likes Lo'ak. Spent a lot of time with him before you came back into his life. Teaching him the ways of the water, diving together, that sort of thing."

She paused, reaching out to squeeze your arm, her touch warm and reassuring against your cooler skin.

"But don't worry, okay? Lo'ak's in love with you. Completely. What you two have... it's different. Real."

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth lifting in a brittle curve that didn't reach your eyes but inside, a storm brewed. You didn't like it, the way she leaned into his space. Being his omega meant trust and devotion but this? This felt like a crack in the foundation he'd so carefully built around you.

Tsireya's gaze lifted then, peering over Lo'ak's shoulder, and her expression shifted in an instant. From warm amusement to a cool assessing stare that pinned you in place. Her high cheekbones sharpened with the change, lips pressing into a thin line as a flicker of resentment darkened her ocean-blue eyes.

So this must be her, the one who stole Lo'ak from me.

Lo'ak turned at her subtle stiffening, his head whipping around with that instinctive alertness of his and his eyes locked onto yours. His reaction intense and surprised, a flash of warmth breaking through before confusion clouded them.

You mustered another smile, tighter this time, the knowledge of their past turning it forced and fragile. Your fingers clenching at your sides as the breeze whipped strands of your hair across your face.

"Baby." He said, voice dropping to that husky timbre laced with affection and a hint of wariness, striding toward you with his long purposeful gait. "What are you doing here?"

Kiri stepped forward smoothly, her hand linking with yours in a subtle show of solidarity, sensing the strain in your forced grin.

"We were just hanging out." She interjected lightly, her tone casual but protective as her eyes darted between you and Lo'ak. "Walking the beach, enjoying the air."

Lo'ak nodded, his focus solely on you now, reaching out as if to pull you close but you held back just enough to keep the distance.

"Come on, let's head back to the marui." He suggested, voice softening with that possessive edge, glancing over his shoulder at Tsireya who watched the exchange with an intensity that bordered on glare, her arms crossing over her chest.

You waved goodbye to Kiri, a quick flick of your hand that she returned with an encouraging nod, before falling into step beside Lo'ak.

The path back wound through swaying ferns and over low dunes, the air growing thicker with the scent of evening blooms but silence stretched between you like a taut bowstring. Each step amplified the upset feeling churning in your belly especially as a faint floral note wafted from him. It was delicate and feminine, like crushed petals and sea salt and nothing like his own earthy musk. It clung to his skin, insidious and accusing.

Tsireya.

You thought, the name bitter on your tongue even unspoken.

"Baby, are you okay?" Lo'ak asked after a few minutes, his brow furrowing as he glanced sidelong at you, the sharp angles of his face softening with concern, one hand hovering near your elbow without touching. "Why so quiet? Talk to me."

You stopped abruptly, the sand shifting under your feet and turned to face him, your eyes narrowing as the words tumbled out in a rush of frustration.

"You were gone the whole day. The whole day only for me to find you with another woman." You accused, voice rising with the hurt you'd bottled up, your chest heaving as you gestured sharply toward the beach you both left behind.

His eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing his features before he shook his head vehemently, stepping closer.

"Baby, she’s nothing to me." He insisted, tone pleading and urgent, his hands rising as if to cup your face but dropping when you flinched back.

"Are you sure? You can’t even be honest to me with your past." You shot back, your voice cracking with anger, the floral scent hitting you again like a slap making your nostrils flare in hurt and anger at the thought of how he got her scent all over him. "Kiri told me everything. How she likes you, how you two were always together before me and you fucking smell like her, Lo'ak. Like her goddamn scent all over you."

The argument ignited then, words flying like sparks from flint as you paced a tight circle, your tail lashing behind you in agitation.

"Don't touch me." You snapped when he reached for you again, his fingers grazing your shoulder, the contact sending a conflicted shiver through you despite everything. "Not while you reek of another omega. It's fucking embarrassing Lo'ak and insensitive as hell. Spending your day wrapped up with someone who wants you like that when I'm here unaware. What if it was reversed? What if I was off laughing with some other alpha who liked me all day, letting his scent mark me? How would you feel?"

His face twisted at the hypothetical question, fury flashing in his eyes like a sudden storm, his jaw clenching so hard the tendons stood out along his neck with his fists balling at his sides. The thought alone ignited a dark possessiveness in him, a growl rumbling low in his throat, his alpha instincts flaring at the mere idea of you with anyone else.

"Don't even say that." He snarled, voice thick with barely restrained rage, stepping into your space despite your warning, his breath coming in sharp bursts. "I'd lose my mind, baby, I'd tear him apart. You're mine. No one else gets to touch you, scent you, or fucking look at you like that."

But his pleading followed the anger, his tone shifting to desperate supplication as he raked a hand through his braids, his eyes searching yours with raw vulnerability.

"Please, listen to me. It wasn't like that, I swear on Eywa. She cornered me and nothing more. I don't want her, I want you. Only you. Let me explain first, baby. Don't shut me out." He reached again, slower this time, his large palm hovering near your cheek, his thumb trembling with the need to soothe his omega.

You pulled away, the hurt too fresh and too raw, your arms wrapping around your midriff as if to shield yourself.

"No." You whispered voice breaking, turning toward the marui without another word, the silence falling heavy as you walked the rest of the way alone in spirit even with him trailing behind.

Ever since, the marui had become a battlefield of unspoken words, your silent treatment a wall he battered against with increasing desperation.

You moved through the days like a ghost in your own home. Preparing simple meals but eating apart from him, your back turned as you sat cross-legged on the mat, the curve of your spine rigid under the thin weave of your top. Your affections also evaporated, no more curling into his warmth at night, no lingering touches or shared glances. You'd slip into the nest alone, pulling the furs tight around your body, ignoring the way his eyes tracked your every motion, dark and hungry with yearning.

Lo'ak unraveled in the shadows of your withdrawal, his obsession twisting into a desperate dark fervor that shadowed his every step. He'd pace the marui at dawn, his frame coiled with tension, the defined planes of his chest rising and falling in agitated breaths as he watched you stir.

"Baby, please." He murmured one morning, voice hoarse from a night of pleading into the void, kneeling at the edge of the nest, his fingers itching to trace the slope of your hip but withdrawing at your stiff silence.

The air thickened with his alpha scent, musky and laced with frustration, a plea in itself but you turned away, your heart aching even as your stubborn pride held firm.

By evening, his desperation peaked, the dark undercurrent of his love surfacing in the way he cornered you gently against the woven wall. His body heat enveloping you like a cage of longing, the hard line of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh despite the chasm between you.

"You're killing me, omega." He growl softly, lips brushing your ear in a ghost of a kiss, his breath ragged. "So stubborn, not even letting me explain the truth. I need you, your touch, your voice. Don't make me beg like this."

But you'd slip away, leaving him aching, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that promised he'd do anything—anything—to shatter your resolve and reclaim what was his.

Now, Lo'ak's frustration simmered like a storm trapped in his chest, every fiber of his being coiled tight as he slumped against the woven wall of the marui, the dim glow of the light casting flickering shadows across his tense jawline. His legs stretched out before him, thighs flexing restlessly against the floor mats while his fingers drummed an erratic rhythm on his knee.

You'd ignored his every gesture, the meals he prepared with trembling hands, the soft murmurs of apology that hung unanswered in the air, the way he'd trail after you like a shadow, desperate for even a glance. It had been days of this torture, your silence a blade twisting deeper with each passing hour and now as the evening deepened into night, the marui felt emptier than ever without your presence.

He pushed to his feet abruptly, the muscles in his back rippling under his skin as he ducked through the entrance, the humid air outside doing little to cool the heat of his agitation. The paths of Awa'atlu wound like veins through the village, lanterns swaying gently in the breeze but Lo'ak's sharp eyes scanned every cluster of figures and every hidden nook for you, his tail flicking with impatience.

It wasn't until he rounded a bend near the communal fires that he nearly collided with Neteyam and Spider, the two lounging against a cluster of smooth boulders and sharing a strip of smoked fish.

"It's like we haven't seen you in days, skxwang." Neteyam teased, his voice light but his golden eyes narrowed at the storm cloud etched on Lo'ak's face, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder.

The touch was firm and grounding, Neteyam's broad frame steady as ever, the faint scars from old skirmishes tracing faint lines along his arms. Spider, perched cross-legged tilted his head, catching the rigid set of Lo'ak's shoulders.

"Where are you even going anyway?" He asked, his features scrunched in curiosity, the freckles across his nose standing out against his flushed skin.

Lo'ak growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he dropped onto a nearby stone, the cool surface doing nothing to temper the fire in his veins. He raked a hand over his face, braids shifting with the motion revealing the sharp hollows of his cheeks hollowed by sleepless nights.

"Looking for (Y/N),' he muttered, voice rough and edged with exhaustion. "She's been ignoring me for days. Won't even hear me out."

Neteyam exchanged a glance with Spider before settling beside him, the stone scraping under his weight. "What happened, bro? Spill it."

Lo'ak exhaled sharply, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, the tendons in his forearms standing out as he clenched his fists. He recounted it all, the beach encounter, your accusing glare, the way your voice had cracked with hurt as you called out the floral scent clinging to him, your refusal to let him touch you and the wall of silence that followed.

"She thinks I was... with Tsireya. Like it meant something. I tried explaining but she just shuts down. Turns away every time."

Spider shrugged, popping the last bit of fish into his mouth, his lean frame shifting as he wiped his hands on his shorts. "I mean if I was her, I'd react the same. Who would be happy if they saw their alpha with another omega and one who likes him at that? Smelling like her? That's a gut punch."

Neteyam shook his head, his long braids swaying with the motion, expression thoughtful as he traced a finger along the stone's edge. "Why were you even with Tsireya anyways? You know how that looks."

Lo'ak groaned, throwing his head back to stare at the starry canopy above, the frustration twisting his features into a grimace.

"I wasn't with her. The reason I was gone all day was diving past the outer reefs, gathering these iridescent shells for a bracelet. For (Y/N). Thought it'd surprise her, make her smile." He paused, voice dropping to a bitter rumble. "When I surfaced, Tsireya showed up with Ao'nung. He was hauling these shawls, all soaked in her scent from some weaving session or from wearing them, I don’t fucking know. Someone called him away and the idiot dumped the whole pile on me. I was drenched in it. Told her to take them back, that I'm not her errand boy but she refused all haughty. So I dropped them right there on the sand. That's exactly when (Y/N) and Kiri walked up.'

Neteyam let out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands, the muscles in his biceps flexing subtly. "Yeah, no wonder she flipped. Total misunderstanding."

Spider nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Explains the scent bomb. You gotta tell her that, man. Clear the air because for sure she thought you let Tsireya all over you because of her scent."

Unbeknownst to the trio, hidden in the fronds of nearby palms, two figures eavesdropped from separate shadows. You crouched low behind a thick fern, your heart pounding as Lo'ak's words washed over you, the tension in your shoulders easing like a knot finally unraveling. The truth hit you square, he'd been out there for you, crafting something beautiful from the sea's depths, and Tsireya's meddling had twisted it into betrayal. Guilt flooded in hot and heavy, your cheeks burning as you pressed a hand to your chest feeling the rapid flutter beneath your skin.

I've been such a bitch.

Days of cold shoulders, of denying him the warmth he craved, all for nothing. Tonight, you'd make it up to him. You will crawl into his arms, whisper apologies against his neck, and let your bodies mend what words had broken. A soft smile curved your lips, the first genuine one in days, as you slipped away quietly, your steps light with anticipation, the sway of your hips carrying a newfound eagerness.

Tsireya, however, lingered in the underbrush on the opposite side, her form rigid as stone, ears perked to every syllable. Her fingers dug into the bark of a tree, nails scraping faint grooves as Spider's chuckle cut through the air.

"Looks like you lying about being her alpha at first really worked in your favor, bro."

Neteyam chuckled too, patting Lo'ak's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure you'll work it out with her. Just lay it all out, truth's the only way."

They delved deeper into the conversation, voices low as they dissected the fallout, Lo'ak's responses laced with raw yearning but Tsireya's world narrowed to that one revelation. Her eyes widened, a predatory glint igniting in their depths, lips parting in a silent gasp.

Lied.

The word echoed, fueling a dark resolve within her. She'd tell you and twist it just enough to shatter the fragile bond to drive you away so she could claim what was rightfully hers. Lo'ak had been hers first before your shadow darkened his path.

Your excitement bubbled as you hurried along the winding path back to the marui, the night air cool against your flushed skin, your tail curling in subtle joy at the thought of Lo'ak's surprised delight.

But then, a figure stepped into your path. Tsireya, her posture straight and unyielding, the shells in her hair glinting like accusations under the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes, the warmth in your chest souring instantly and sidestepped to move past her, the curve of your waist brushing the air.

She blocked you again, her hand shooting out to grip your arm, fingers digging into the soft flesh just above your elbow, her touch cold and insistent.

"Wait. You need to hear this." She said, her tone laced with false sympathy, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. "I overheard Lo'ak just now. Telling his brothers everything."

You froze, the words tumbling from her like venom, each one striking deeper. She wove the truth she'd gleaned. You, once a fragile human tawtute, Lo'ak chasing your heels through the Omatikaya forests, your rejections stinging him until the RDA's raid claimed your life in a hail of fire.

"But they brought you back." She continued, voice dripping with mock pity, gesturing to your form, the fuller swell of your breasts rising with each shallow breath, the exotic plumpness of your hips a remnant of your origins. "A memory shoved into this recom shell. And Lo'ak? He lied from the start. Pretended to be your alpha to keep you from fighting for the RDA again. Said it was the only way to control you."

She twisted the knife further, her lie seamless.

"Before you came back, he was courting me. Whispering promises under the waves. You're just a replacement, a ghost he clings to out of guilt."

The world tilted, information crashing over you like a rogue wave, your vision blurring at the edges as betrayal clawed up your throat. Your hands trembled, nails biting into your palms, the betrayal hot and furious as it erased the guilt in a blaze of rage.

Lied.

The word echoed, shattering the trust you'd rebuilt. You wouldn't forgive this, not the deception, not the manipulation that had woven you into his web.

"Get out of my way." You hissed, voice breaking as you wrenched free, stumbling back when a wave of dizziness swirled in your head like the tide pulling at your feet.

Tsireya's smug smile lingered, her high cheekbones sharpening with triumph, arms crossing over her chest as she watched you falter.

You turned to flee her gaze, legs unsteady on the uneven path but the world spun violently in your dizzy and disoriented state, your foot caught on a jutting root. You slipped, the ground rushing up, your temple cracking against a jagged stone with a sickening thud, pain exploding in white-hot bursts as darkness edged your vision.

Lo'ak's head snapped up at a distant commotion, his instincts flaring as he bolted from the stone. Neteyam and Spider on his heels, their footsteps pounding through the undergrowth. They burst into the clearing to find you crumpled on the path, blood trickling from a gash above your eye staining the sand and Tsireya standing frozen nearby, her face paling at their arrival.

Fury ignited in Lo'ak's chest, a roar building in his throat as he dropped to his knees beside you, his large hands gentle yet urgent as they scooped you up, cradling your limp form against his chest. The warmth of your body seeping into his skin like a lifeline.

"What the hell did you do?" He snarled at Tsireya, eyes blazing with unchecked rage, the veins in his neck bulging as he held you closer, your head lolling against his shoulder.

He was pissed. A dark possessive storm ready to unleash but you needed him now, not his vengeance.

Not losing you again, not to death, not to anyone.

Your eyelids fluttered weakly, a soft groan escaping your lips as pain throbbed through your skull.

"Lo'ak." You whispered, voice faint and slurred, your fingers twitching against his arm, seeking the solid anchor of his presence despite the chaos in your heart.

"I'm here, baby." He murmured, voice thick with emotion, pressing his forehead to yours briefly, his breath ragged as he rose carrying you effortlessly toward the healer's marui.

Neteyam barking orders to clear the way while Spider shot Tsireya a glare. Ronal awaited, her skilled hands already preparing herbs and salves, the Tsahik's stern gaze softening only fractionally, not knowing her own daughter was involved in this.

Lo'ak laid you down on the soft pallet, his hand never leaving yours, thumb stroking the delicate veins on your wrist in a rhythm of desperate reassurance.

The healer's marui hummed with the sharp tang of medicinal herbs, the air thick and cloying as Ronal's deft fingers probed the gash on your temple.

You lay motionless on the woven pallet, your chest rising and falling in shallow rhythms. Unconsciousness held you in its grip, your full lips parted slightly, the soft swell of your breasts straining against the thin fabric of your top with each breath, oblivious to the storm brewing around you.

Lo'ak hovered at the edge, his broad shoulders hunched, the sinews in his arms taut as he gripped your hand, his knuckles whitening.

Spider and Neteyam slipped in behind him, their footsteps hushed on the reed mats, the tension in the space coiling tighter.

Spider leaned close, his voice a urgent whisper against Lo'ak's ear, breath hot and conspiratorial. "Bro, you have to hear this. We interrogated Tsireya on what happened out there."

Lo'ak's gaze never left your still form but his jaw clenched, a low rumble building in his chest as Spider spilled the details.

Tsireya's venomous words, the twisted truths about your human past, the RDA raid, your death and revival, the fabricated claim of him as your alpha to leash your loyalties. She'd even invented a courtship between them, painting you as a mere interloper in his affections.

"She dumped all that on her, man. Right before she slipped and hit her head."

Fury ignited in Lo'ak's veins like liquid fire, his tail lashing sharply, the muscles in his thighs bunching as he straightened to his full height, eyes narrowing to slits of obsidian rage.

Fucking Tsireya. She nearly ruined everything.

The careful web of lies and devotion he'd spun to bind you to him, the nights of whispered manipulations and heated touches that had finally made you his. One slip, one jealous outburst, and it could all crumble. His fists balled at his sides as he seethed, the veins forking along his forearms like rivers of wrath.

Ronal's sharp intake of breath cut through the haze, her eyes widening as she pressed a palm to your abdomen. She turned to Lo'ak, her voice laced with accusation and awe. "Did you know she is with a child?"

The words slammed into him, a dual strike of elation and blistering anger.

A child—his child—nestled within you, a living tether forged from their stolen intimacies. Joy surged through him, imagining the swell of your belly under his hands, the life you both created in the throes of his dark hunger. But it twisted immediately into deeper fury. Tsireya had endangered them, you and the fragile spark growing inside, all because of her pathetic envy. Lo'ak's lips curled into a snarl, his chest heaving as he stormed from the marui without a word, the flap swinging violently in his wake.

He found her by the lagoon's edge, her frame silhouetted against the rippling water, the lines of her back tense as she stared into the depths.

Tsireya whirled at his approach, her wide eyes flickering with defiance that shattered under his glare. Lo'ak loomed over her, his presence a towering shadow, the heat radiating from his skin like a predator closing in.

"You better fucking pray to Eywa she wakes up." He hissed, voice low and lethal, each word dripping with venom as he jabbed a finger towards her, stopping just short of contact. "And that our baby is okay. Because if not, if you've harmed her or the life she's carrying because of your twisted jealousy, I'll ruin you. I'll tell everyone, the Tsahik, Tonowari, the whole clan of how you pushed her knowing she bore my child, all to steal what was never yours."

Tsireya recoiled, her breath hitching, the color draining from her face as the weight of his threat sank in.

For the first time, she glimpsed the abyss of his devotion to you. The unyielding shadowed love that consumed him, the darkness lurking beneath his fierce protectiveness. It wasn't just anger, it was years of vow etched in blood, promising devastation without remorse.

She stammered, backing away, her hands trembling at her sides but Lo'ak's expression remained carved from stone, unyielding and terrifying.

"Banishment." He continued, his tone a silken blade, stepping closer until she could feel the storm of his breath. "Even as the Olo'eyktan's daughter, that's what awaits you. Exiled, alone, for endangering an omega and her unborn. Pray, Tsireya. Pray hard."

He turned on his heel, leaving her shattered in the moonlight, the depth of his obsession laid bare like a wound to her broken heart.

Soon enough, five days blurred into a vigil of unyielding watchfulness, Lo'ak a constant sentinel at your side, his body a warm bulwark against the chill of the marui.

He refused food, his frame leaning against the pallet's edge, one hand always entwined with yours, thumb tracing the delicate ridges of your knuckles. Exhaustion etched faint lines under his eyes but his gaze burned with fervent intensity, willing you back from the void. The clan whispered of his devotion but he cared for none of it. Only you, only the child that sealed your fates.

On the fifth dawn your eyelids fluttered, the world seeping in through a haze of soft light and familiar scents.

Confusion clouded your thoughts, memories fracturing like scattered shells. Flashes of Lo'ak's arms around you, his claims of alpha and omega ringing true in your now rewired mind, the recent turmoil with Tsireya erased as if it had never been. Selective amnesia wove false certainties in your fragile mind. Of how he was yours, always had been, the bond unbreakable and real.

You stirred, a soft groan escaping as you shifted, the tender ache in your head pulsing, your fingers squeezing his instinctively.

Lo'ak's breath caught, a triumphant laugh bubbling up in his throat, suppressed into a tender rumble.

Eywa's blessing.

He marveled silently, the irony sharp and sweet as he revels in it. He had braced for ruin once you wake up, readied himself for rebuilding the lies from ash after Tsireya's sabotage but fate or perhaps his own relentless will had handed him victory again. As usual, the world had bent to keep you his.

He leaned in, his free hand cupping your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb brushing the plush curve of your lower lip, eyes gleaming with possessive relief.

"I'm glad you and our baby are okay, omega." He murmured, voice husky with emotion and laced with a dark undercurrent of finality.

You blinked up at him, brows furrowing in bewilderment, the fog in your mind parting just enough to register his words.

"Huh?" Your voice came out small, throat dry, as you glanced down at your abdomen, the subtle warmth there unfamiliar yet instinctively right.

Lo'ak's smile deepened into something feral and adoring as he shifted lower, his warm lips pressing a lingering kiss to the flat plane of your belly, just above the woven band of your loincloth. The touch sent a shiver through you, his breath fanning hot against your skin, igniting a spark of heat in your core.

"You're pregnant, baby." He whispered against you, the words a vow, before trailing upward, capturing your mouth in a deep claiming kiss.

His tongue swept in possessively, tasting of salt and unbridled want, his body pressing close, the hard lines of his chest molding to your softer contours. In that moment, as your lips parted under his, yielding to the flood of fabricated memories and rising desire, Lo'ak's mind thrummed with dark triumph.

Now she can never leave me.

This child would bind you tighter than any lie or bite. It will root you in him, body and soul. You'd always been his, from the first stolen glance in your human fragility to this rebirth and nothing, not Tsireya nor the truth, would ever change that.

The days following your awakening blurred into a haze of tender moments, Lo’ak's presence a constant unyielding anchor beside you.

His hands, callused yet gentle, guided every spoonful of fruit to your lips during meals, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He scooped you up effortlessly at the slightest sign of fatigue, your legs dangling over his arm as he navigated the village paths, the solid wall of his torso pressing against your side.

"You're carrying our future now." He murmured, voice a low vibration against your ear, his tail curling possessively around your thigh.

You giggled swatting at his shoulder lightly, the sound bubbling up from your chest as you glanced down at your still-flat abdomen. "Lo’ak, I'm not even showing yet. Put me down before you strain yourself."

But he'd only flash that wicked grin, fangs glinting in the sunlight, his grip tightening just enough to send a thrill racing along your spine. "Never gonna happen, omega. You're mine to carry, mine to protect."

Neytiri's joy radiated like the first light of dawn, her features softening whenever she looked at you, one hand often resting reverently on your belly.

"My first grandchild." She whispered, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, drawing you into hugs that smelled of earth and wildflowers.

The family embraced the news with open arms. Jake's proud nods as he prayed that your father can see this, Kiri's knowing smiles, and Tuk's excited chatter. They were blissfully ignorant of the shadows Lo’ak had woven to claim you. Only Neteyam and Spider knew the full twisted truth, their glances at him laced with wary understanding but they held their silence, bound by loyalty to him and this newfound happiness.

Inside the spacious family marui, the air hummed with purposeful activity, the scent of fresh-cut wood mingling with the salty breeze drifting through the open sides.

You nestled against Lo’ak's side on a woven mat, his arm draped heavily over your shoulders, fingers idly tracing the slope of your collarbone.

Across the space, Jake hammered at interlocking branches, his broad back flexing with each strike as he shaped the crib's frame. Neteyam sanding the edges smooth with precise strokes while Spider assisted with twine bindings, his hands steady despite the Na’vi tools.

Nearby, Kiri and Tuk knelt over piles of soft fabrics, their nimble fingers weaving intricate patterns into tiny garments. Swaddling cloths dyed in oceanic blues, adorned with delicate shell beads that caught the light.

Neytiri hovered close to you, her form bending as she adjusted a pillow behind your back then pressed a cool leaf poultice to your forehead, fussing with the precision of a mother hen.

"You must rest more, little one. Eat this, it's good for the babe." She offered a slice of ripe mangrove fruit, juice dripping from its vibrant flesh.

Lo’ak chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling from his chest, vibrating through you where you leaned into him, his free hand splaying protectively over your hip.

"Ma, okay, okay—stop. I'm just gonna take her to the beach to breathe." His tone was light but his eyes held a possessive glint as he rose, scooping you into his arms without waiting for protest.

You snuggled instinctively into the warmth of his chest, your cheek nuzzling the firm planes of muscle beneath his skin, inhaling the musky spice of his scent that always grounded you.

He carried you effortlessly through the village, your arms looped around his neck, fingers threading through the braided strands of his hair as the marui faded behind. The path to the beach wound past swaying palms and soon the sand yielded softly under his feet.

Lo’ak lowered you onto a smooth boulder overlooking the waves, the sunset painting the sky in strokes of fiery orange and deepening purple, the gentle breeze whispering across your skin like a lover's caress, carrying the faint tang of salt and distant blooms. As you settled, legs tucked beneath you, the curve of your thighs pressing against the stone's warmth, Lo’ak's gaze flicked toward the distant figures on the shore.

Tsireya among them, her posture subdued and avoiding his direction. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, hidden as he turned back to you. She'd heeded his threat, slinking into the shadows like the coward she was.

Good. Doesn't matter anyway. If she so much as breathes wrong near my omega, I'll end her.

You sighed contentedly, tilting your head back to watch the colors bleed across the horizon, the breeze teasing loose strands of your hair across your cheeks.

"This is perfect." You murmured, voice soft with awe, reaching for his hand. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Lo’ak dropped to one knee beside you, his larger frame curling protectively around yours, one hand cupping the nape of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there.

"Anything for you, omega." He replied, his voice husky with raw emotion, eyes darkening as they roamed your face to the delicate fan of your lashes down to the plush bow of your lips. "I need you close always. Especially now."

He leaned in, nuzzling the crook of your shoulder, inhaling deeply. Your unique omega scent flooding his senses like a drug, sweet and intoxicating, laced with the subtle shift of early pregnancy.

Your breath hitched, a flush warming your cheeks as his nose trailed up to your jaw. "Lo'ak... what if someone sees?'"

But there was no real protest, only a breathless invitation as you turned your face toward him.

"Let them." He growled softly, fangs grazing your earlobe sending sparks down your spine. "You're mine. Let the whole clan know."

His hand slid to your kuru, fingers deftly uncoiling the neural braid, his own brushing against it tentatively.

"I want to share more with you. Tsaheylu, let me show you how deep this goes."

You nodded heart pounding, the vulnerability thrilling as your tendrils connected with a soft, electric hum.

The bond surged open but Lo’ak guided it with iron control, flooding your mind with curated visions. The heated press of his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your neck during your first claiming bite, the mark blooming like a brand of ownership. The lazy nights tangled in furs, his body spooned against yours, hands roaming the generous swell of your hips in reverent strokes. The raw frantic rutting where he'd buried himself deep, your slick coating his thighs as you arched beneath him, cries muffled against his shoulder. Lovey-dovey whispers in the dark, his lips mapping every curve of your fuller form. The way your breasts heaved with each gasp, the dip of your waist flaring to plush thighs that gripped him fiercely.

No shadows of deceit slipped through as he walled off the lies about your human origins, the withheld truths of your past death and revival, even Tsireya's poisonous revelations were all buried deep. Instead, you drowned in the purity of his obsession, the immense love that consumed him, a tidal wave of adoration crashing over you. He was your alpha, your everything, the bond pulsing with his devotion as he lets you feel it.

You are my life, omega. My breath, my heart.

Tears pricked your eyes as the connection deepened, your free hand clutching his arm, nails digging into the corded muscle. "Lo’ak... I see it. All of it. How you love me."

He broke the bond first panting slightly as he can feel the buried memories about to come to the front. His forehead pressing to yours, the world snapping back into focus with the crash of waves.

"Always." He vowed, voice rough with need, before capturing your mouth in a lewd devouring kiss.

His tongue plunged past your lips, tangling with yours in a slick messy dance, tasting the sweetness of the fruit from earlier as his hand fisted in your hair to angle you deeper. You moaned into him, body arching instinctively, the pebbled peaks of your nipples brushing his chest through the thin weave of your top.

He pulled back just enough to nip at your lower lip, eyes blazing with hunger. "Fuck, omega... I can't wait for your tits to swell even bigger with our child. Gonna bury my face in them, suck every drop of that sweet milk right out while you beg for more."

His words were filthy, growled against your skin as his hand palmed the soft mound of your breast, thumb circling the hardening bud through fabric eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

You whacked his chest playfully, laughter spilling out even as heat pooled low in your belly, your core clenching with a rush of slick that soaked your loincloth.

"Lo’ak! You're impossible." You scolded but your voice trembled with arousal, thighs pressing together against the insistent throb.

The thought ignited something primal, your omega instincts preening at his crude promise, your body responding with a flood of warmth that made you squirm.

He laughed low and predatory, hauling you onto his lap so you straddled his thighs, the hard ridge of his cock pressing insistently against your folds through their coverings.

"Admit it baby, you're dripping just thinking about it." His hands gripped your ass kneading the firm flesh, pulling you down to grind slowly, the friction drawing a whimper from your throat. "My greedy little omega, already scenting the air with that needy slick. Gonna take care of you right here."

You rocked against him, hands splayed over the ridges of his abdomen, tracing the freckles that glowed faintly in the twilight.

"Maybe I am." You teased breathlessly, nipping at his jaw, the salt of his skin bursting on your tongue. "But only if you promise to be gentle with our baby."

"Always gentle." He purred, one hand sliding between you to cup your cunt, fingers pressing through the damp fabric circling your clit with deliberate pressure that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "But tonight? Gonna make you come undone, omega. Mark you again, inside and out."

His mouth descended to your neck, sucking a fresh bruise over the old claim, the breeze cooling the wet heat as you clung to him, lost in the possessive storm of his affection.

Every lie, every actions of his led to this. You as his omega and pregnant with his child. It was inevitable because you have always been his.